The Void Born
by ClockWorkNight
Summary: Those that were chosen to become part of the Storm Eternal have fought every foe and adversary found the the realms, they are no strangers to the forces of the dead, of destruction and of chaos. So what happens when they stumble across a silent warrior whom is seemingly not of the realms.
1. Encounter

Lord-Aquilor Helena Tempestborn was no stranger to warfare. Like the rest of the astral templars she was taken from one of the many tribes of humans that carved out a living, despite the dark gods tyranny, Nagash's machinations and the many many monsters and beasts that surrounded them. While the name of the tribe constantly eluded her last memory was the clearest memory of her past; riding alongside small group of horse riders in a last ditch attempt to buy their families time to escape from a rampaging chimera. The fact that she was now reforged as part of the god king's storm eternal attested to the fact that she had met her end with honour and her impressive battlefield record since her reforging attested to the fact that she worthy of the mantle of stormcast. Under her leadership dozens of tyrants and monsters had been cornered and slain.

The Abhorrent King known as King Marrow was her latest quarry.

King Marrow had been a menace to the denizens of the realm of Aqshy for far to long, cunning and, unlike many Abhorrent kings, devout to Nagash and for the past few months, a thorn in the Astral Templar's side. He had the audacity to abducted almost the entire population of a settlement. Helena knew that the captives would have very little time before King Marrow decided to hold his grand feast.

The Lord-Aquilor traced her quarry back to a decaying fortress hidden in mountains before she put her plan into action. Originally she was due reinforcements from the Extremis chamber, but King Marrow had placed baleful hexes which prevented her brothers and sisters from being emerging from the lightning from Azry. By the time they arrived, it would be too late and what few freeguilders remained from the raid on Franzburg would not be enough. Thankfully she wasn't the only one who wanted the Ghoul king dead and his foul court gone; a small clan of Duradin had been harrowed by the ghoul court, they had more than one grudge against them, particularly the warden King who was apparently drinking buddies with the captain of the town watch. He agreed to lead a assault on the fortress along with the vengeful remnants of the guards, drawing out the majority of the ghoul Kings fortress as well as his 'vassal' while the smaller, but nimbler, Vanguard host would flank round and attack the fortress with the goal of ideally killing Marrow and freeing the captives, however even if they could not do that then they would be in the ideal to administer the finishing blow to the flesh eater court.

The plan of attack for the Stormcast was two fold, vanguard-hunters would move through the crags and approach the fortress from the east via crags and terrain that would be impassible for cavalry pass through while the Palladors would approach from the south, meanwhile raptors would get into position to support the Duradin who would be joined by the Palladors once they helped the Hunters deal with anything guarding the entrance.

And so Lord-Aquilor Helena rode fourth through the rocky fields littered with petrified trees alongside her Vanguard-Palladors atop Squall; her dark feathered Gryph-charger. Even though the same Hex that prevented her from receiving additional reinforcements also prevented her and her Palladors from transforming themselves into a ethereal wind, they were still well trained in the art of moving through rough terrain silently and stealthily. Her riders sprinted swiftly over the plains on steeds with similar pelts and plumage under the dusk sky. Along side them a pack of Gryph-hounds would keep pace with their masters, eager to hunt down their quarry.

As she crouched low in the saddle she could hear the sounds of the Duradin's struggle and even smell the rank scent of blood and gunpowder blown across the dry wastes thanks to her blessed senses. She had heard the bloodcurdling scream of a terrorgheist before it was cut short by a chain of thunderous cannon shots, followed by the equally thunderous cheer as another grudge was settled by the Duradin.

"The Duradin better not get all the glory this evening." She heard one of her brothers utter, Alric the Pallador Prime to be precise. Alric was one of the younger leaders within Helena's strike force, despite this he had quickly proven himself on multiple occasions, however his hot headedness held him back. One day he would gain control of his temper and perhaps even rise to become a Lord-Aquilor himself. For now though he acted as one of Helena's Lieutenants.

The Lord-Aquilor gave what some might a mother hen look from underneath her warhelm.

"There will be opportunities for glory, Alric." She chided sternly. "But don't forget our duties."

Alric was undoubtedly a talented warriors and was more than capable of holding his own but he still possessed a hot headedness which would one day send him to the anvil if he wasn't careful. Though he was making progress it was slow and Helena wondered if he would end up learning the hard way.

Alric was about to make some sort of comment in reply to the Lord-Aquilor when the sickly scent of decaying flesh suddenly hit the Stormcast, their enhanced senses meant that they caught the scent far sooner than many mortals would have. On the horizon a trio of grotesque muscular forms could be seen, alongside them were a pack of hounds, though they were more bones that flesh as what little scaps of muscle, fur, and skin remained clung onto them in ragged, irregular patches.

"Looks like we found our first of enemy; Mordant horrors accompanied by Dire Wolves, figures that Nagash would give them more beasts for their Menagerie." One Pallador spat. "We won't be able to avoid them, we'll have to go through them." Alric noted, his grip already shifting on his javelin. "Agreed." Helena nodded before giving her orders. "Strike hard and Strike fast, bring down the horrors first before we hit the wolves."

All of her riders nodded as they rode towards the first of their enemies. Helena readied her heavy boltStorm pistol. Behind her, Alric's Pallador prepared to release their Javalin's as they rode towards the enemy. The Mordants had now begun to realise that they now had company, and the decaying hounds began to bay and bark, but it was too late for the Maroon armoured stormcast where upon them.

"For Sigmar!" Helena roared as Javlins flew over her head as the rest of the riders roared a wordless battlecry. The time for stealth and silently tracking their prey was over. The enemy would soon know that the Astral Templar's were upon them, and that that divine retribution had now come.

One of the Horrors called out, to the deluded creature its voice must have sounded proud and noble, but in reality he shouted in a gravely voice. "Haaalt in the name of King-" A surprised grunt interrupted its order as a Javelin pinned him to the ground, the lightning charged weapon fried the Ghoul alive. The second horror suffered the same fate as he was impaled by two more Javelins along with three of the direwolves who's pained yelps and howls joined their dying masters cries. The third crypt horror managed to avoid javalin's and began to lurch towards the Riders with unnatural agility.

Helena calmly aimed down the sights of the handheld crossbow. Even though the ghoul was moving at close to blinding speed, to Helena it moved in slow motion thanks to her blessed reflexes. She could make out ever bone that stuck out of its flesh and it's bloodshot eyes, she could count every rotting tooth and every piece of flesh stuck in them before she squeezed the trigger. In an instant a bolt flew out of the Boltstorm pistol, it shrieked through the air before it tore through the horror's torso. The ghoul suddenly halted in surprise and pain as the Lord-Aquilor drew her blade. The rune inscribed blade shimmered as it swung through the air with the grace of a weapon crafted by the six smiths. The Ghoul's head came free of its neck as foul black blood sprayed through the air.

With the Horrors now dead the Stormcast turned their attention to the remaining Direwolves. Two of them bounded towards the Lord-Aquilor, their teeth flashing in the moonlight. Quickly she brought her boltstorm pistol to bear before firing in rapid succession, forsaking accuracy for volume of fire. Three out of five of the bolts where off target, only kicking up dust as they buried into the dry soil, but the second and fifth bolts struck true; the first smashed through the skull of one of the undead beasts before pinning its now unmoving body to the ground via its left leg, the second ripped through the second beast's torso.

As this happened her brothers and sisters struck swiftly, with strokes of their axes they shattered bone and sliced through flesh, as their steeds began to savage the wolves with beaks, claws and on occasions hoofs, as they sqwarked in anger, Squall himself was busy snapping the neck of one dire wolf while his rider was busy firing. The Gryph-hounds also assisted as they dragged down a particular large specimen, ruthlessly tearing it apart.

A loud curse suddenly cut through the sounds of battle, Alric. Helena spun round to see that the Pallador prime had been knocked off his saddle and pinned to the ground by one of the last of the dire wolves, his War-helm also knocked off, revealing a mane of wild red hair. Helena brought her BoltStorm pistol to bare and was about to shoot the beast off him before his mount intervened. The Gryph-Charger swung its claw, knocking the wolf off him. Alric quickly got to his feet and before the undead wolf could rise he severed its neck with a swing of his axe.

Helena allowed Alric to catch his breath. "Are you alright?" She asked. Alric turned round with a jovial smile. "I'm alright, despite things getting a little too interesting." He replied as he got back onto his steed. "Anyway, lets not tarry any longer."

* * *

It only took Helena a few moments to lead her brothers and sisters to the entrance of the fortress, a decrepit Keep surrounded by the occasional skull or chewed bone, a hint of what fate those that were dragged into it.

The majority of the fortress was underground as it was Duradin creation. It was built on behalf of a long forgotten human civilisation which eventually fell to the fury of Khrone before century's later would be driven off by the Stormcast.

Awaiting them was the hunters, wearing grey pelts and white plumed war helms, and a dozen Ghoul corpses.

Helena scowled slightly in puzzlement. Though she was undoubtedly glad that the hunters had been able to wipe out the mordants without their assistance; she had been expecting at least double their number. Then was the fact that they had been ordered to wait for the Palladors, an order which they could not obey for whatever reason.

She wasn't particularly reassured when she saw that the hunter prime was leaning against the wall, his leg bloodied as one of his brothers crouched next to him as the Lord-Aquilor rode up to him.

"What happened?"

The Hunter-Prime, a cleanly shaven Stormcast with sun kissed skin named Garik, looked up before he answered. "They had a damn Dire wolf as a guard dog. Smelt us, alerting the guards and forced us to engage them. Got unlucky and got stabbed in the knee, I'll live but I won't be fighting for the rest of today at the very least."

Helena clicked her tongue, the rescue of the mortals taken by the flesh-eater court was undoubtedly paramount, however aiding her allies was equally important. Originally she had intended that Garik lead the rescue party as he was the most experienced and most suitable, now that he was effectively out of action Helena would have to take over for him. While she didn't doubt Alric's competence, she didn't want to thrust such responsibilities at such a pivotal moment on him unexpectedly. At that moment another Vanguard approached her with an Aetherwing on his arm.

"Lord-Aquilor; Ironeye's raptors report that the battle goes well, but the enemy is proving stubborn." He stated. "They would still welcome the Palladors."

Lord-Aquilor Helena made her decision. "Alric, you lead the Palladors to the battle, work on concert with the Duradin to finish off the foe." She commanded before she dismounted Squall. She gently patted the Gryph-Charger's neck. "You stay here and look after our brother along with the hounds." She told Squall, receiving a affirming squawk before he moved over to Garik's side, while the Gryph-hounds followed him.

"Are you certain, Lord-Aquilor?" Helena looked over her shoulder at Alric who had spoken in a questioning tone.

"I trust your abilities Pallador-Prime." Helena answered confidently, casting away any doubt that her decision was final. "Go, make the god king proud."

Alric nodded before he rode fourth, the rest of the Palladors close behind him. The thunder of hoofs quickly quietened to a mere rumble before finally being obscured by the thunderous sounds of the Duradin's battle.

Helena watched in silence before she turned to the Vanguard-Hunters.

"Come, it's time we end this hunt." She said as she walked towards the entrance of the keep, the darkness and the stench of blood, rot and death welcomed them, as it had welcomed many a unfortunate soul who had met a grim end.

Helena was determined that only the unhappy ending written today would be for the wretched court.

* * *

This place was no stranger to monsters.

After it's original occupants were torn apart by the bloodthirsty forces of chaos, the bloodreavers settled in its cavernous halls. This once bastion of hope now became a home for those that worshiped the terrible might of the blood god. From it the red armoured hordes pour out of its gates to despoil, conquer and slaughter in the name of their dark patron. With his names on their lips they committed innumerable atrocities, those that stood and fought against the Bloodbounc were cut down with mercy. Those that surrendered or could not fight against them faced a far grimmer fate as they were trussed up with barbed chains and dragged back to the keep. There they would be ritualistically butchered, or forced to fight to the death in spike ringing arenas. Whatever their fate, their blood and skulls were dedicated to Khrone.

For years it was thus, and for years the denizens of this region watch the plains with fearful eyes, hoping that they would never hear the earth shuddering drumming of brass hoofs and the blood thirsty battle chants. They believed that no mortal army could hope to dislodge them from their holdings, no guard could stop their murderous rampages. They became careless and over confident.

That changed with the arrival of the Storm eternal. Though the forces of chaos had been expecting a counter attack by Sigmar, the blood reavers had been caught off guard by the fury of the Stormcast. On the plains they clashed with the Astral Templars. The battle was short and bloody as mounted Stormcast from the Extremis chamber cut through madmen and butchers, all the while Drakesworn-Templars ripped through the once believed invincible skull-crushers.

Despite a decisive victory the bloodreavers managed to survive albeit barely. Realising that they could not hope to match the Stormcast in open battle, there only saving grace was that their fortress was not located, they were forced to perform hit and fade attacks until their kin could break through and reinforcement them. Yet they were ill-suited for this type of warfare, and to make matters worse the Stormcast now protected the settlements which were once easy targets. With each raid fewer and fewer warriors returned, the returns of even the few successful raids were mediocre at best.

Things truly began to collapse when the Lord who had led them, a tyrant known as the bloodied Lord, was struck down. He did not die in a glorious duel with a champion of order, but by a musket bullet from a humble guard. With the unifying Bloodied Lord killed in such a humiliating fashion, infighting took hold of the Bloodbound as they fought for each other for control of what remained of the horde as Khrone's favour left them. The Stormcast had mostly left save for a small force, needed elsewhere in the realms, though in their place, freeguild soldiers were left to garrison the settlements. Though not as formidable as the Stormcast they were still a force to be reckoned with, especially when supported by the Duradin.

All the while King Marrow had been watching. The ghoul king had wished to serve Nagash in Aqshy and deemed that securing the fortress would be a good start. And so in the dead of a dry autumn night he attacked the fortress with his court. What was left of the reavers were suddenly torn apart in a whirlwind of dirty nails and yellowed teeth. All the sigils of Khrone were cast down and replaced with king marrow's own banners and the Alter dedicated to the Blood god was replaced by a glorious throne, made of the bones of the Bloodbound.

Even though Nagash had only passing interest in the region, he was pleased with the King and gifted him with dire-wolves and other fell gifts before giving him new orders; sow terror across the land.

And so a new reign of terror set in. Men, women and children would go missing while traveling or even dragged from their own homes. Witch hunters and captains who attempted to investigate joined them. The Duradin managed to bring them to battle but suffered heavily losses themselves. With each passing night the list of victims grew, until finally the Marrow King attacked the town of Franzburg, snatching its occupants for his grand banquet. However like the Bloodreavers before him he got careless, and now the Duradin and the Astral Templar's had found his hideaway.

Yet his deeds had not only attracted Nagash's favour, and the Astral Templar's ire, but the attention of someone, or rather something, else.

To those that dwelled in the mortal realms, she was alien, she was a stranger in the truest sense of the word. To those that heralded from her home she was a ghost from a long gone age, a veteran of the old war now returned to fight in a new age of conflict. To some he was a hero, a symbol of freedom and hope. To others she was a killer, whose sole purpose was to seek and destroy.

Tonight she was an agent of vengeance. She had watched King Marrow's atrocities for too long, but each moment she had, she gathered knowledge about his prey. Now she put that knowledge to good use.

Slowly he drifted through halls of the court, moving in silence like a pale spectre. Those abominations that had the misfortune of stumbling across her would be swiftly dispatched with Yellow ribboned Spira and masterful strokes of her Nikana. She made her way slowly towards the inner sanctum. Despite the opposition to her, she came closer and closer to her objective.

Tonight she would demonstrate why those with wicked hearts and served wicked causes feared the Tenno.

* * *

Helena and her hunters advanced through the tunnels. Though encased in Sigmarite plating they moved with no more noise than they made in their mortal lives when they hunted beasts in the wilds in the name of survival.

The tunnels bore little, if not any, of the iconography of the original builders of the place or the Bloodreavers that conquered it before meeting their end at the hands of the flesh-eater court. Instead the halls were decorated with the rotting remains of their victims which where mounted like the animal head which some mortal lords stuffed and hung as trophies. Morbid banners made of flesh and bones hung, proudly displaying the crudely painted coat of arms of King Marrow.

Occasionally the Stormcast would stumble across the gnawed bones of victims, along with various traps both mundane and magical, thankfully their training as well as the slap-dash construction of these traps meant that they were avoidable or could be disarmed with relative ease.

The foul decorations would have spread fear and dread into a mortal's heart, but they only served to strengthen Helena's resolve. These... abominations had murdered humans and Duradin and flaunted their remains like they were trophy kills. She cooled her temper; she would get vengeance for those that had been killed and rescue any survivors from this festering pit, but she wouldn't do it blinded by anger.

However as they descended deeper and deeper, something became more and more obvious; the silence. By now they should have encountered at least one patrol of ghouls, yet they heard no scurrying, no sounds of nails and claws scrabbling at the ground, no call to arms.

Just silence.

Finally one of her brothers made the statement everybody was thinking but dared not say. "Its too quiet... where did they all go?

"I doubt the answer is going to be a pleasant one." Helena mused as concern gnawed at the back of the Lord-Aquilor's mind. In her mortal life silence was rarely a comfort; it often meant that something incredibly dangerous was lurking nearby, waiting for anything it could all prey. Her instincts, honed by two lifetimes of hunting and fighting, told her that they weren't alone.

They encountered their first ghoul once they turned the corner; dead.

The creature was curled up on the ground like a dead spider, its wiry arms and legs and hunched body reinforcing the resemblance. It's expression was one of fearful surprise; it had seen its killer. A long, slender, arrowhead like blade with a bright Yellow ribbon tied to the end, most likely a throwing knife of some description, was jammed into its throat.

Helena crouched down and removed the knife less-than carefully from the Ghoul's corpse before she began to inspect it. It seemed to be made of steel, or something akin to it, at first glance yet it was lightweight for its size. The distinctive shape was like nothing she had seen; at first she thought it was of Aelven origin, but the more she looked at it, the more she realised that its style was unlike any Aelven weapon she had seen. She couldn't smell any poison on it which further disproved her original suspicions; most Aelven assassins preferred to coat their blades in toxins to maximise the lethality of each strike.

After wiping the blood from the blade, tested its sharpness by carefully dragging it across her gauntleted palm. It carved a shallow groove in its wake, not a small feat considering Helena's armour was made of one of the strongest materials known to the mortal realms.

"This was designed to puncture armour and flesh." She thought aloud as she held the throwing blade before her. "It's well crafted; I wouldn't be surprised if it could pierce our own plate if thrown with enough force and at the correct angle."

"That not the only corpse." The hunter who had spoken before motioned down the hallway to see half at least thirteen dead ghouls laying in varying positions. Some had fallen victims of identical yellow ribboned knives, the blades having buried deep into their flesh. Others had been killed with a sword if the wounds where what they seemed to be. More than one had been bisected, cut cleanly in half.

The most troubling fact was that whatever had done this was seemingly heading towards the inner sanctum, which was close to where the surviving townspeople would be held.

"We move swiftly." She ordered as she rose to her feet, she place the blade in a pouch on her belt. "Whatever else is here, we cannot allow it to harm any survivors from Franzburg."

* * *

The Warframe stood above the Tenno's latest kill; a large hulking mordant with wings for arms. Once it had been the apex predator, the last thing many a human or any other race that occupied this strange world. It would be unfair to say that it or its now headless kin didn't put up a fight, but in the end the Tenno was the victor as the beast attempt to crawl away.

She put it out of its misery by stabbing it through the heart. It ceased its movements before the Tenno pulled the blade free and slid it back into its scabbard before moving forwards, moving with the silence of the dead. One would expect that controlling a Warframe would be a disorienting experience, if it once was then it was lost in the depths of her memory.

It only took a short while of moving before she found something that she had not encountered before as she made his way through this fortress of atrocities; an ornate archway which lead to a balcony which seemed to overlook a large hall of some description. While she had no exact description of the inner sanctum but she would happily bet credits that she had found it.

Her target was most likely in that hall, though she wouldn't doubt for a moment that the king would not have some sort of protection in the form of bodyguards. If she did then they would most likely be the some of the strongest he had available. And that was before he considered any of the supernatural powers at its disposal.

Of course she had something which looked like a plan, though admittedly it was only somewhat better than just leaping into the room.

He detached the Braton Prime from her back, he took a moment to admire the ebony black casing and silver gilding. Even though she had no love for the Orokin, even she had to admit that their engineering was as beautiful as it was effective. It was a shame that it was often used to destroy. She pulled back the charging handle, a soft clockwork clunk announced that the rifle was now chambered, armed and dangerous.

She took a brief pause before she surged forwards, throwing himself off the balcony. As soon as he was airborne she activated her Warframe cloak, she flickered out of sight. She looked over the hallway as she glided over it. Below her the king, sitting on a throne made of bones, along with two hulking winged ghouls like the two he dispatched along with a monstrous bat like creature looked upwards away from the corpses on the banquet table that dominated the room in startled confusion as they looked for the mysterious intruder.

The Tenno drew her sights on King Marrow's head before she glided over him, the clammy grey skinned ghoul's eyes darted around as it snarled. She doubted that this was going to go as she originally envisioned, but she was committed now. Thankfully improvisation was a lesson a lot of Tenno picked up quickly.

The Tenno began to depress the trigger, bringing her back into the visible spectrum.

* * *

The Hunters had now abandoned stealth in exchange for haste, though they were still vigilant for traps. Now they had to contend with a mysterious intruder, or intruders, who was well equipped and had unknown intentions. For a chamber which not only gathered information and utilised it to their advantage, an unknown variable was the last thing they wanted. The usual response to situations like this was to assume the worst case scenario was unfolding. In this case the worst case scenario suggested that the townspeople were being targeted by this killing machine and the Flesh Eater court was just in its way.

So far they had not encountered any living ghouls, however corpses became quiet common. The signs of the intruder's handiwork was clear. To Helena, whoever or whatever did this had to be well trained and experience. Each wound was precisely targeted to be fatal, those that weren't were intended to cripple, allowing the assailant to finish of their foe at their leisure.

The observation that they had amassed a such a high kill count, seemingly without alerting the Mordants, even more credence to this terrifying fact.

The Stormcast eventually came to a locked, and sturdy looking door at a cross junction. Even though the intruder had come through here, their trail veered off as a quick glance to right saw that another dead ghoul was further down the hallway, she couldn't see the throwing blades which had punctured other ghouls so she guessed that it had died in close quarters combat.

It seemed they were not able to get the door open, and so had been forced to go around in order to find another way. A small blessing as it meant that they had been delayed though gut instinct told Helena that they had only lost a little time.

"Door is clear of traps, should we break through?"

Before the Lord-Aquilor could answer the hunter's question silence was broken. A series of sharp, staccato, bangs tore through the air, a faint whine underlying the chain of what Helena suspected to be gunshots. Feral snarls, an inhuman shriek, the sound of wood breaking and plates shattering joined a suddenly crowded soundscape.

The intruder had found the Inner sanctum, time was running out if the Stormcast wanted to reach the survivors before they did.

"We can no longer be subtle! Break through!" The Lord-Aquilor ordered, throwing the last vestiges of stealth out of the window. "Be ready to fire down the hallway."

One hunter stepped forwards before he gripped the door handle and with a grunt of effort pulled the door inwards destroying the lock and wrenching it off its hinges, and stepping out of the way giving his brothers and sister a line of fire. A pack of ghouls were scurrying down the hallway away from the Stormcast, aiming to aid their king. One looked over its shoulder only to be met by a hail of bolts which tore it and the others apart.

The Stormcast wasted little time and even as the last of the ghouls were cut down they rushed down the hallway, their heavy footsteps announcing their presence. Yet even they were downed out the the sound of the intruders struggle with the last of the flesh-eater court.

Within a few moments the hunters had reached a walkway which overlooked the inner sanctum, a grand feasting hall festooned with more of King Marrow's morbid banners and chairs decorated with the bones, though the table was broken in two and what must have been the throne was shedded apart. King Marrow himself was in the centre of the room, close to the now shattered long table, along side two Infernal Courters and a grey furred Varghulf Courtier. All four of them where looking around, eyes flashing angrily as they looked for the unknown assailant. Helena motioned for her brothers to remain hidden in the shadows the walk way; taking on the King and his entourage would be too risky, even more so with the still undermined nature of the unknown assailant.

Something caught Helena's eye, a flickering in the periphery of her vision. She saw a figure materialise into existence on the far side of the room clung to the wall like a sprite.

The assassin appeared to be female, judging by her build. It seemed to be covered in some sort of strange organic, ash grey, armour with oche highlights. Its head was covered by a large white hood and its face seemed to be cover by a mask which had a single diamond shaped eye which glowed with a deep blue light. On its shoulders seemed to be a number of arrow shafts, which was strange because it bore no bow.

On it hips was a long, slender, sword with leaf engraving and a jewellery chain on its hilt. Joining it was two pouches of those distinctive Yellow throwing blades.

Helena trawled through her experience forged through nearly countless deployments across the mortal realms as well as the few memories she had of her mortal life, yet she could not identify what the assassin was.

The assassin aimed her weapon at the ghoul king, who along with the Varghulf and one of the Courtiers were unaware of the whereabouts of the threat to the king. One of the Courtiers realised however that the assassin was preparing to open fire and with a snarl of fear it pushed the king of of the way before the intruder could fire.

The moment the intruder pull the trigger the rifle suddenly unleashed a storm of bullets. The Lord-Aquilor was aware of firearms which could fire multiple rounds in rapid succession, however most of these weapons were either crossbows, like the Boltstorm pistols and the repeating bows used by Aelven Corsairs, or multi-barrelled which used a complex mechanism. This weapon had only one barrel and was seemingly only slightly more bulky than the repeating rifles used by the engineering guilds, yet its fire rate was comparable to them, maybe even surpassing them.

The rounds fired had a devastating effect on the courtier; they pierced its leathery hide and tore through the creature with viscous ease. The barrage was short but brutal as the courtier was left with a dozen holes decorating its body. Yet thanks to its unnatural resilience it still lived. It loosed a shrieking roar of rage before charging the assailant, followed by its fellow courtiers.

The assailant dropped down from the wall so that it was now standing on the ground though not for long as it was soon moving rapidly in order to evade the hulking ghoul. The courtier roared its fury and attempted to tear the assassin apart, swinging wildly with filthy claws, the assassin however simply just ducked and weaved with grace that would rival that of an Aelf.

It rolled under one strike, quickly springing to their feet before it raise her rifle and opened fire once more, at point blank range. This time it aimed right at the ghoul's heart, the disciplined burst of gunfire had a lethal effect on the Ghoul as it was effectively eviscerated its vital organs.

Before the mutilated corpse hit the stone floor the second Infernal courtier attempted to pounce on the assassin who once again dodged gracefully out of the way. However the following flurry of claws put the assassin on the defence as it was forced into the centre of the room, the Vargulf carefully watching, waiting for the a moment to strike. King Marrow was also watching for a opportunity to utilise his magic, knowing full well that it could be just as deadly to his allies as his foe.

The assassin shifted backwards, once again being forced to take up the defensive, however Helena noted from her vantage point in the shadows that it did not seem panicked, every movement was expending minimal energy. While it had obviously favoured a decisive kill on the ghoul king, it had now realised that it had now engaged its courtiers and had to go through them.

The Assassin took one of its throwing knives and threw it into the ghoul's foot as it ducked under a wild swipe. The ghoul howled in pain from the surprise strike, as the assassin rose its rife and fired its third barrage, reducing its head to a red mist before it even had a chance to recover.

The Assassin stood up just as the Vargulf surged forward with a primal scream. It leapt as it swung its wicked claws. The assassin spun round and aimed the gun in one smooth motion before it pulled the trigger.

Click.

The Assassin was smashed aside into one of the walls of the hall with bone shattering force, the rifle flew out of their hands, clattering away from the assassin. Helena saw a blue flickering as the assassin slid to the ground. At first she though that it was dead from the impact, even a Stormcast would have to see a Lord-Relicor before they could continue to fight, if they weren't sent back to the soul mills for reforging. However the assassin simply just picked itself of the ground as though nothing had happened.

The Vargulf screamed its blood-thirsty rage, apparently annoyed that the assassin had managed to survive blow, before it charged forwards. It's claws raking the stone floor. The assassin was not still however and a strange curving bow materialised in its hand in golden light. With a swift motion it pulled back on the bow as three arrows of blue light came into existence before it released its string. The arrows cut through the air in a horizontal spread before the centre arrow t struck the Vargulf. The arrow detonated, bisecting the bestial vampire in a messy fashion. Just leaving the assassin and the ghoul king.

The king was about to chant some sort baleful incantation, intending to condemn the assassin to a grisly death. However the remaining two arrows arced around the Vargulf and lanced towards King Marrow.

It was sufficient to say that King Marrow was reduced to a puddle of blood.

The assassin briefly looked at its handywork as the bow dissipated, vanishing from its hands just as swiftly as it came. It immediately went to retrieve its rifle.

Helena knew that this assassin was unlike anything that had been seen before, it could put the infamous Clan Eshin operatives to shame and outclass the shadowblades. It could both perform convert operations and perform well in open combat. There was only one question: just what was it's purpose.

It suddenly snapped its head towards the Vanguard's position. Its 'eye' remained fixed before it attached its rifle to it back before lowering its hands to its twin pouches. It took a step back towards the only way out of the inner sanctum, a doorway which was lacking a intact door.

Helena quickly realised that it had now become aware that it was not the lone survivor in the room, but it was not certain about the nature of the other beings in the room. It wasn't striking out and initiating a fight, which may be avoidable. With it not moving a muscle Helena realised that she was going to have to confront the Assassin.

"Half stay up here, half with me." Helena ordered her hunters, after she received a nod from each of the hunters she stood up and vaulted over the barrier. She heard the stale air whistle past her ears before she landed with a heavy thud. She stood up as she was joined by the other half of the cohort. For a moment the assassin and the Lord-Aquilor were merely sizing each other up before Helena broke the silence.

"Who are you?"

The assassin did not respond verbally but instead sprinted through the exit of the inner sanctum.

Helena curse before she sprinted after the assassin, she could not allow the assassin free reign while there was survivors. She had seen what it was capable was, and even though it had killed king Marrow and seemingly any ghoul between it and him, but there was no guarantee that he was its only target.

The assassin dashed through the hallways, managing to keep one step ahead of the Stormcast, though the hunters were nipping at her heels, despite the sigmarite plate each one of them wore. Through the twisted maze of bone strew hallways Helena chased the assassin along with her hunters, like a pack of wolves they refused to let their quarry escape. Yet long after mortals would have collapsed in exhaustion, all of the participants were still running.

However eventually they came to a dead end, a barred room which contained the remaining survivors of Franzburg, and the Assassin suddenly put on a burst of speed towards the cell. Suddenly Helena had a nasty thought; what if the assassin's target was a citizen of Franzburg and it had killed the Ghoul King because he was in its way? Helena swore violently and and ran with all she could muster, but it wouldn't be enough.

The assassin suddenly leapt into the air, men, women and children suddenly recoiled away from the bars, scampering away from this unknown entity that the Stormcast had been chasing. It placed its feet on the bars before springing off them over the Lord-Aquilor's head and onto the wall before it ran along it past the stunned hunters. It landed behind its pursuers before it ran into the shadows, its form flickering before it disappeared like a ghost.

Frightened mutters and fearful murmurs were drowned out by Helena's thoughts. While she was relieved by the fact that the assassin's mark wasn't the townspeople, just why did it target King Marrow? What did it hope to achieve?

She pushed those thoughts to the side, those questions would have to go unanswered and the assassin would have to go free... for now at least. Right now she had to finish her duties.

She removed her helm, revealing her weather beaten face to the scared and weak survivors. Calm blue eyes surveyed them, noting every wound and illness and mentally composing a list of items they would need to gather.

"It's time we left this place." She announced, eliciting whoops of joy and relived sighs from the survivors.

* * *

The Tenno sat on the rock as she watched the camp of Stormcast and their allies through the eyes of her Warframe.

It had been about 12 hours since she had completed her mission. On paper it was a complete success, the abomination's king had been removed from the board, permanently, and from what she had heard the ghouls themselves had been completely wiped out and no longer posed a immediate threat.

Yet for her that victory had come through luck rather than cunning and skill. She could have gotten herself killed easily on more than one occasion. For starters her less than subtle entrance into her mark's room could have gone sideways despite her Warframe's cloaking systems. This had caused her to squander a quick kill on the ghoul king. She then failed to properly keep track on the ammo counter and was only saved by her shielding, not ideal due to her Warframe's fragile nature, she had to waste more energy in order to bring the fight to a swift end using her Artemis bow.

Then there was her first encounter with the Stormcast.

She was not completely unaware of the Storm eternal; she had listened to story tellers as they wove tales of warriors created by Sigmar from the souls of fallen heroes with the intention of beating back the forces of death, destruction and chaos. Of course this was the first time she had come face to face with one, a Lord-Aquilor by the name of Helena. From what she inferred Helena was the head of a recon branch of her Stormhost.

Whatever the truth, the Tenno had decided to keep herself hidden from them until she had managed to glean more reliable information, though she had also done it as she felt that, even though their end goals were similar, her methods greatly differed from the Stormcast's. The Tenno could never fight an open war like the Stormcast could, instead they fought using guerrilla tactics, slowly bleeding them out using hit-and-fade attacks and fighting dirty should the need come apparent. She felt like the Stormcast would naturally mistrust a operative who they knew nothing about.

Even if it hadn't been Stormcast in the gallery, she had allowed herself to get tunnel vision and failed to sense her observers. It was her luck that they had arrived to rescue those that had been taken by the Abominations.

Which lead her to her final mistake of the evening, though admittedly it was more bad luck. Even though she had managed to escape the Stormcast she may have left a bad impression when she accidentally frightened the living daylights out of the survivors. Remaining silent about herself may have been another mistake.

That was why she had decided to shadow them from afar, and eavesdrop. She was undoubtedly going to be sharing breathing space with them until she figured out a way back home. the Naramon way dictated that knowledge of your allies was just as valuable as knowledge about your enemies; being able to know their next move would be useful whether they were the former or the latter.

She had found a perch on the field of rocks at the boarder of the camp; it was well shaded from the baleful glare of the sun and provided good concealment should her Warframe's cloak fail. She remained aware of the position of camp sentries as well as the birdlike beasts which acted as a second line of defence (she made a mental note to check if she had any desert skate jerky for her Kubrow).

From what she had heard the battle had gone poorly for the abominations, resulting in their annihilation. At first they held the upper hand until the stubby humanoids known as the Duradin killed one of their monsters with a lucky cannon barrage. Even though they managed to cling on after that, a surprise attack from the rear effectively ended the battle in the allied forces favour.

After that it was reports on the numbers of causalities, the state of the survivors, efforts to ensure that none of them succumbed to sickness or the heat as well as alleviate any trauma they had suffered, requests for a high ranking Duradin to see one of the guard captains, and various theories on the enigmatic assassin. She paid close attention to these, even though they were sometimes outlandish, she knew that some would have shreds of truth. One of the most common ones she heard involved Nagash, a god whom she had learned that other gods and goddesses were interested in seeing either brought to heel or killed, others said that she was affiliated to chaos, untrue since she was fairly certain that all of the syndicates and clan warlords would put a kill order on the everchosen's head for just one of his atrocities, she only admitted it to herself but being labelled by the townspeople demon stung. The final prevalent theory was that she was some sort of otherworldly spirit seeking vengeance against those that had wronged it, including Nagash. Though like the rest it was a shot in the dark, she felt like there was some truth.

She was more than just human... the void had changed her in more ways she could name.

The Tenno's attention was drawn away from the rumour mill when she spotted the Lord-Aquilor, she had taken of her helmet revealing a woman with fair skin and black hair with small flecks of grey. Despite her age there was an air of strength, the years of life had not slowed her in the slightest.

It her armoured hands she held a Spira blade. The Lord-Aquilor inspected the Tenno-crafted weapon with a keen eye. The Tenno knew that she had become a person of interest to the Stormcast, she had little doubt that the Vanguard chamber taught similar lessons about the value of intelligence that Naramon doctrines focused on.

The Lord-Aquilor, Helena, was approached by another Stormcast, a Male, judging by his armour the Tenno guessed that he was a squad leader, or a prime.

"Lord-Aquilor Helena." He said, bowing his head respectfully as Helena turned the blade in her hands, hoping that she would find something that would link the blade to something familiar. A sensible line of inquiry given what she didn't know.

"Alric." The Lord-Aquilor replied. "What brings you here."

"You've been looking at that blade for the past hour, Vira and her sisters were getting worried, along with the rest of your brothers and sisters."

Helena sighed. "Truthfully, this bothers me." She held up the Spira.

Alric was certain of what she was implying. "The assassin? It didn't attack any of the townspeople."

"That does not guarantee its intentions are benign."

"It doesn't prove that its intent is malicious either."

Helena smiled, seemingly pleased that her subordinates had offered a good counter. "True, still, it is an unknown entity who could match us in combat. Not to mention it was able to cheat the magic disrupting Hexes given to king Marrow." She said as the smile disappeared. "We cannot remain ignorant of it."

"Then what is our next move?" The Prime asked, the Tenno paid full attention to Helena's answer.

"I have informed other Lords operating in the area as well as Hammerhal, though we aren't in the High-Magister's immediate jurisdiction, it would be best to warn him if the assassin begins to turn its sights on the first-city, besides he may know something we don't."

A idea suddenly stuck Alric. "Lord-Aquilor, is there mages who are versed in the lore of metal in Hammerhal?"

"I believe there are." Helena answered. "And they may be able to understand what this blade is made out of. Possibly giving us something close to an answer." She smiled again. "I'll send it with the report, who knows, perhaps Aventis may uncover something we missed."

Having heard what she needed to hear, the Tenno began to slip away from the encampment. She now knew that Helena intended to actively seek answers regarding the Tenno. It was not the ideal outcome but it was the most likely one. Besides she may be able to turn it into an advantage, she was going to be here for a while longer and she would appreciate an ally. However she was still sorely lacking good intel to know if an Alliance was truly wise.

"Prepare for the worse, but hope for the best." The Tenno said under her breath as the Ivara-class Warframe disappeared from the camp's view.

* * *

**AN: so this was created because I wanted to know how another superhuman would react to a space ninja XD. I was also looking into some of the lore behind the age of Sigmar (admittedly it a bit hit or miss compared to its forbearer, some of it is a bit meh while other parts are prety good) so that is why I ended up choosing the mortal realms. This will probably stay a one-shot since I have no idea which way I want to take this story, but I will proably do something warframe related.**

**Anyway please review and favourite and have a nice day. bye!**

**EDIT: corrected some pronouns and punction.**


	2. Preludes, past and present

"Operator?"

The Tenno hummed in acknowledgment as she thoughtfully looked through the port-side window.

Like many of those who had awoken from the second dream her orbiter had been modified for some additional comfort, one of the additional cargo bays had been converted into a makeshift lounge. At one side was a couple of large bean-bags which she had brought from Cetus, next to them was a shelf filled with Ayatan sculptures and several datapads containing various subjects including biology, and philosophy, as well as stories. In the centre of the room was holographic Komi table with two cushions on either side. On the right wall what was not covered in shelves was covered by pictures depicting sunrises and sunsets over oceans and deserts while the left held a fish tank which contained three Troyzoids and another set of shelfs, this time holding floofs (she particularly liked the Sawgaws). Despite the various trinkets and knick-knacks, the room was organised, with each object given its own place.

She sat, or rather knelt, at a low table, as she looked into the black emptiness that was space. She saw her reflection, her own dark skin, blue eyes, short cut black hair and the white vein like marks which marred her face, surrounding her eyes. Her appeal seemed to be more fitting for a Ventkid rather than a Tenno, with yellow cloth tied around her black jumpsuit arms and a makeshift belt along with equally makeshift shin guards, but she felt comfortable in this clothing and last time she checked the Tenno didn't have a dress code.

"Logi, please call me by my name." She requested to the ship Cephalon.

"Forgive me opeeeer- I mean Mara." Logi quickly corrected himself, a electronic buzzing underlined the half formed word operator, Mara made a mental note to check if he wanted her to run a diagnostic later to see if she could find the fault that caused the buzzing when he was stressed or correcting himself.

"You have received a message."

"From who?" Mara asked, already going over the usual suspects in her head. Even though she operated independently with little contact with the Lotus compared to other Tenno, she would still answer summons from her for major incidents such as Ghoul outbreaks, Fomorians, Razorback assaults, that sort of thing. It could also be Baro Ki'Teer, advertising his latest wares that he found on his forays into the void. As much as the junk mail annoyed both Logi and Mara, she admitted that plenty of the stuff he brought back was good. She was hoping though that it was Nemo, or his Cephalon, Ordis; she rarely formed friendships with her fellow Tenno. While she would have no complaints about joining a squad which had an open slot, she was somewhat of a self-imposed exile. However she had always been friends with Nemo, and made an effort to keep an eye on him, especially since he had awoken from the second dream, there were a few fleeting memories of him before the Zariman's ill fated jump.

Before everything fell apart... before she lost everything...

She pushed aside the memories and focused on the present.

"The message is an audio recording from Little Duck."

"From Little Duck?" That had caught Mara's attention. She had worked closely with Solaris United, and, by extension, Vox Solaris as well as the Quills. She had quickly learned that the one thing these three organisations had in common was that they preferred to speak face to face, even though the comms channel used by the Tenno were well encrypted. Usually it was a short text based message with a meeting place, and a heads up on what they wanted to discuss. Audio messages were reserved for things which couldn't be left waiting.

"Play the message." Mara ordered as she stood up.

"Beginning playback." Logi responded before the former rail agent's voice was heard over the sound system.

"This is LD, I know you're busy dealing with cleaning up the mess of the outbreak at Selkie, but we need you here." Mara began to pace as she listened to Little Duck; the usual swagger in her voice was nowhere to be found. "To cut a long story short, we've been getting reports of anomalies close to a space route to Venus. Usually it wouldn't bother us but it's close to a route often used to smuggle supplies for SU, the kind of supplies that Anyocorp won't allow into Fortuna. To make matters worse the anomalies match those reported by a Corpus Security ship before it went missing. Euicido wants to know if the route will be safe, we need confirmation. Contact me as soon as possible."

"The message ends there." Logi stated. "How will you respond?"

Contact Little Duck, tell her that I accept, usual terms." Mara answered firmly as she stood up and began to exit the lounge. Smuggling routes acted as a lifeline for SU, they didn't just provide weapons but could also supply medical equipment, parts for rigs, food and and anything else that was vital if the Taxman decided to squeeze supply lines in order starve SU out. "Prepare orbital loadout B."

"Affirmative. Message sent, now loading Itzal with biiiig guuu- Duel Decurions and Veritux into the Linset. Zephyr is still loaded in the Linset, do you wish to select another Warframe?"

"No, I'll be fine with Zephyr." She answered before she opened the door. As soon as she had opened the door Mara heard a throaty bark before the distinctive clacking of claws on the orbiter's deck. Before long a Kubrow with grey fur, a white underbelly and dark grey markings along its back greeted the operator with excited panting.

Mara couldn't but chuckle; Sakura was an intelligent animal, she was invaluable as she allowed her mistress to find ammo and supplies by opening up storage lockers and even finding packs which had been buried, not to mention she was often more than capable of finishing off anything or anyone which survived the Tenno's onslaught. Yet she continued to acted like an oversized puppy on the orbiter.

"You've been behaving yourself?" Mara asked as she scratched the side of Sakura's head, causing the Kubrow to lean into the Tenno with a playful growl.

"It is currently the 4th 'accident' free day." Logi replied with some enthusiasm.

"I didn't ask you Logi."

"Correct, but Sakura is a daaamn Kuuu- non-verbal."

Mara just sighed as she realised she had walked into that comment. Part of her wondered if ship Cephalons came with humour precepts, but instead of asking a silly question and getting a silly answer, she decided to see if she could do something productive with her time. Close to the ship's foundry was a whiteboard and a marker. On it was a list consisting of 6 items.

Item 1: Clean blades (done)

Item 2: Clean Infirmity door. (Done)

Item 3: Take stock of ammo, especially incendiary grenades (done)

Item 4: troubleshoot the Plink

Item 5: Check Somatic readings using Rhino (done)

Item 6: Socket new Ayatan sculptures (done)

Mara didn't feel like she wanted waste more time banging her head against the proverbial wall; she didn't doubt the Plink would not be useful, it went without saying but a side arm which didn't consume ammo would certainly be valuable, but she had accidentally gotten the 'training' version of the weapon which was far too weak to be used in live combat. As a result would effectively need to overhaul the gun from the ground up. Maybe she should talk to Zude and see if she could get any advice from her?

Sakura began rubbing her head against Mara's arm, as if sensing her mistress's frustration. The operator couldn't help but smile a little.

"Maybe a little bit of Stargazing?" She asked, earning a confirmative bark from the Kubrow.

* * *

Mara spent the journey looking into the depths of space, fussing over Sakura, playing Komi against Logi, or pouring over the intel Little Duck had sent her. From what she could tell the Corpus ship detected unusual Void energies and moved to investigate, all contact ceased shortly after. Once she determined how far the ship was before it dropped off the face of the origin system, she came up with a plan, she would have the orbiter linger well away from the anomaly and see if there was an anomaly, depending on the results Mara would launch the Linset, and deploy using an Archwing.

Mara was on the navigation deck, scratching Sakura's belly when the journey came to an end.

"Mara, we have reached the coordinates... but... there's no anomaly; the scanners have picked up no abnormalities."

Mara raised an eyebrow before she looked out of the window, sure enough the route was pretty much empty. Then again, while she was not an expert in the field of void anomalies, she doubted that they would always be visible to the naked eye. Still she noted the puzzlement and concern in Logi's voice.

"Perform another scan-sweep, and check again, I'm going to prepare to deploy." She said. Just because the scanners had found nothing didn't mean nothing was out there was nothing was out there.

She began to exit navigation, leaving Sakura to sleep close to the codex terminal; as the ramp descended to the lower decks she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She stopped at the base of the ramp, it felt familiar.

"Opppp... Mara, is something wrong?" Logi asked.

Mara waved a hand dismissively. "It's nothing." She said. Part of her just shrugged it off as nothing worth worrying, that this familiarity was deja vu. But the other part of her screamed that something was dreadfully wrong and that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She felt her chest tighten, like a vice had wrapped around her lungs . She managed to keep her breathing steady but it was far more difficult than she expected.

"Mara... I've detected the anomaly." Logi's electronic voice was laced with the all too human emotion of panic.

"Where?"

"Right on top of us."

Suddenly her body was set ablaze with pain. She tried to scream but no sound came out as she fell to her hands and knees, her fingers bloodied as she scraped them down the cold metal floor. It felt like her entire nervous system was attempting to rip itself away from her body. She was no stranger to pain, yet even this was more agonising than anything she had felt before. Logi's desperate calls for a response fell on deaf ears and Mara barely registered the ship lurching violently.

The one small fraction that remained lucid remembered where she felt that chill on the back of her neck before.

The last thoughts before she finally fell unconscious, was of her tragedy aboard the Zariman Ten-Zero.

* * *

That was 11 days ago. 11 days since she awoke to find herself in a strange land, 11 days since she discover that she probably in a different universe. She was fairly certain she had been close to driving herself mad trying to figure out how and why she ended up here, but she had decided on day 3 that she had bigger concerns.

"Operator?"

The Tenno hummed in acknowledgement as she looked thoughtfully across the scorched plains, the only sound was the padding of her Rhino's footsteps, like her other Warframe's he bore her personal colours, grey, white and oche. She cradled a Veldt rifle in its arms and a pair of Boltors were attached to its sides.

"Report." Mara quite frankly didn't have the energy to chastise the Cephalon about not using her name.

It was day 11 after crashing onto Aqshy. After she awoke she had discovered that the Orbiter was now grounded, however the majority of its cargo was thankfully intact, including the Zephyr and equipment that was loaded into the Linset, though Sakura was wounded. Thankfully the orbiter was designed to be self sufficient for long periods of time, however she knew that she wouldn't have supplies indefinitely, water was especially problematic since it was apparently scarce on this 'realm'.

Logi's avatar, a black cuboid against a white staticky background which appeared to 'open' with each syllable spoken by the Cephalon.

"Logiiii... I believe that your suggestion of cannibalising the Linset's engines to help give the Orbiter limited atmosphere capabilities may be viable."

"I'm sensing a 'but'." Mara said quietly.

"It will take another week if it is and it will effectively be a hovercraft, a slow hovercraft with extremely sort range. Not to mention it will most likely require a significant amount of Oxium."

Mara sighed; not the best news but it could be worse. The Orbiter was incredibly vulnerable now and if someone or something found the Orbiter, the only thing that would save the Tenno would be an amazing turn of luck. So far the only threat that could have amassed a sizeable force was King Marrow. Even though he was no longer in the picture, there were still roaming bands of raiders and Orruks; not united but could still pose a threat. Getting the Orbiter mobile would massively reduce the chances of the Orbiter being found, however it wasn't designed for extended atmospheric use, at most it would be able to slow itself down if it entered a planet's atmosphere so that it wouldn't obliterate itself on the ground. However there still was a very real chance that it would not work.

"Anything else?" Mara asked as she began to head back to the Orbiter. It would be mid day soon, she would perform a long range patrol tonight once night set in and it was cooler.

"Well I do have some good news, Sakura is stable and recovering though she is still comatose and will be out of action for the immediate future."

Mara sighed, waking up to see that Sakura was comatose was certainly not a pleasant experience. As a war-hound, Sakura had been wounded on multiple occasions, but she was never out for long. She missed the Kubrow's barking greeting her when she returned from a mission, or the sound of her claws scraping against the deck. She had forgotten just how much stress Sakura relieved. Nevertheless, the Kubrow lived, that was a small victory in of itself.

"I've managed to complete the overhauls you suggested to the Plink." Logi added quickly.

"You have?" Mara could hardly believe that the damn Plink was operational, it was undoubtedly good news as having a weapon which didn't consume ammo would put even less stress on her supplies.

"Yes, I do believe that there is a 93.48% chance that it will not explode the first time you pull the trigger."

Mara sighed at the Cephalon's estimation; even though there was a little more than a twentieth of a chance of something going wrong, he still had a way of making it sound like it was almost assured that it was going to happen. "Way to rain on my parade. Anyway I'm heading back to the orbiter, there's nothing to report and the only living thing I found were more of those white Condroc like birds. I've not seen any Stormcast patrols yet."

"Perhaps someone higher than the Lord-Aquilor has decided you're not worth the trouble?" Mara could not miss the slight nervous, hopefulness in Logi's voice, like a child who had broken something and was asking an adult to let them off the hook.

Mara shook her head, or rather her Warframe's head. "I doubt it; while its been two days since the ghoul king's death, they've probably been busy tying up the loose ends with that matter; making sure that the surviving abominations will be unable to create a new court and that the civilian population is safe." Part of her wondered if Logi was afraid that he was going to be dissected. Given the fact that she had found him on a corpus vessel due for Europa, the home of almost all of the board's more secretive projects (some of the exceptions being Alard V's pet projects), it was a likely theory.

"Speaking about the Stormcast, have you manage to determine anything from the scans I sent you?" Mara asked. She had managed to get a few quick scans of the Stormcast while she shadowed them two nights ago. Enough that Logi could analyse them and give her some information. Knowledge is power was a mantra she fully embraced.

"Well, there is an interesting detail you should know." He said, his tone slow in deliberate. "As we both expected, the Stormcast have had significant improvements to their biology."

"The kind of things we should be keeping out of Tyl Regor's hands?"

"The kind of things we should definitely keep out of Tyl Regor's hands." Logi agreed before returning to the subject. "But after some analysis I found that they created a noticeable amount ambient energies, similar to the Tenno, but... it does not seem to be void energies."

Mara paused for a moment before she spoke. "The Lord-Aquilor said that I was able to use my abilities despite counter measures set by king Marrow."

"Perhaps they weren't correctly attuned to deal with warframe based powers? Remember that the lightweight Nullification units used by the corpus can only disrupt certain types of powers."

"But the back pack models are able to just shut down any Warframe abilities." Mara pointed out. "Its a brute force approach compared to the Comba and Scrambus gear but it does deny the use of any type of ability. So why were the counter measures unable to disable Ivara's abilities?"

"I think it might be best to put a pin on this particular matter until another time when we have more information available to us." Logi stated, a slight tone of disappointment underlying his voice. As a Cephalon, Logi's duties centred around taking care of his operator and aiding her wherever possible, intelligence gathering and management were two duties he often had to undertake. He was undoubtedly was beginning to feel frustrated at the thought that they were fumbling in the dark, Mara certainly didn't like that fact but the truth of the matter was that they had barely even touched the surface of Aqshy and knew nothing of the other mortal realms.

"Seem like it. I was able to confirm that the Lord-Aquilor is in change of a 'Vanguard Auxiliary-Chamber' and that each Stormhost is divided up into Chambers, with different types of chambers fulfilling different battlefield specialisation."

"So I assume you've also confirmed that the Vanguard Chamber primary function is recon."

"They have other duties but that is correct." Mara answered before she carefully slid down a steep slope. "I've only heard of two other chambers; the warrior chamber, who seem to act as the backbone of a host, and the Sanctosanct chamber, whose purpose is unknown. It can be assumed that the Lord-Aquilor was sent here to seek and destroy King Marrow, but will now stay to assist the town guard until further notice."

She climbed over the final rise that separated her from the crashed Orbiter. The graceful dark grey craft laid in the red sands. Once it glided through the vacuum of space like a shark. Now it looked like a fish out of water.

"Still... I have to say that the more things change, the more they stay the same."

"I beg your pardon oppp... Mara?" Logi said, finally remembering the directive Mara had given him days early.

"Well for starters, this region reminds me of Mars." Mara commented off hand as she looked towards the distance, into the far off unknown lands as the sun glared at Rhino's back. "But besides that... I can see parallel's between the Tenno and the Stormcast; both were effectively born from tragedy, the Zariman Ten-Zero and a hero's demise respectively, and both became something other than human."

She looked up, towards the skies, towards were the 'realm' Azyr laid according to the people of this place. "I don't believe in concepts such as fate... but this feels more than a simple accident."

Logi was silent, not truly knowing what to say before Mara spoke again.

"Sorry for the rambling, you know how I'm like." She apologised as she began to move towards the airlock.

"Looo- I understand. Anyway what loadout do you wish to utilise for this evening's recon mission?"

"Prepare ground loadout A2, but replace the Magnus with the Plink, I want to test it in the field."

"Are you sure you want to use Ivara instead of Zephyr?"

"Yes." Mara answered decisively. "I'm planning to take a closer look at the supply route I found, see if any of the merchants let slip anything that can give me a little more insight as well as scope out what sort of supplies are being transported should the the worst happen. Ivara's cloaking systems are useful for getting in and out of trouble, plus she has a few more little tricks which should come in handy if things go wrong."

* * *

Helena moved through Franzburg with purpose one would expect from one of Sigmar's champions, her cloak billowing behind her as her gear, including her war helm, clattered reassuringly with each step.

The settlement was fairly typical of frontier towns. Though the architecture was what one would expect of a Azyrite settlement, Helena could see that these people were different from the people that dwelled in Azyr or most of the free cities. Though they weren't staved or sick, it was clear they were no strangers to hardship; despite the traumatic experience of being captured by King Marrow's court, they spent little time dwelling the horrific memories. Some silently grieved those that did not return home, they still made an attempt to carry on, though their loss could still be seen weighing on their shoulders.

In many ways these downs along the boarders of reclaimed territories reminded the Astral Templar of her mortal tribe; with their constant battle for survival they didn't have much time to mourn, they had to be ready for the next battle. That wasn't to say that the dead were not forgotten about; the local priest, despite suffering grievous wounds, had performed last rites for those who did not survive the ordeal. Yet there was an understanding that time would not stop just because family and friends had died, those that still lived would need to carry on with their lives, and survive.

It was perhaps Helena's, as well as her brother's and sister's, understanding was why the Astral Templars were often deployed along the frontier to help protect more isolated pockets of civilisation. It was common knowledge that the Stormlords, who were often Lords and ladies who upheld the responsibilities that their position demanded they fulfil in their mortal life, were often deployed at city states when some political tact was required or for the sake of keeping the peace in areas which the servants of chaos were attempting to destabilise.

It didn't take long before she reached her destination, the guardsmen's headquarters, referred to as the Manor house by the locals. It was a small compound surrounded by walls and with a tower located on its northern side, it was designed to be a holdout should the walls fall, and with a tunnel leading to the Duradin keep of Forgeward, it could by time for the civilian population time to evacuate if it was fully manned. However Franzburg's freeguild guard was currently trying to restore their numbers after King Marrow's attack, even with Duradin reinforcements they would struggle against another attack. Thankfully for them Helena was planning to stay for as long as needed.

She strode towards the entrance of the headquarters, a two story building. A sturdy door with barring and metal studs dotting the woodwork was the only way into the building from the ground. The structural reinforcement combined with the thickness of the wood would prove to be difficult, but not impossible, to break. Before it stood two freeguild guardsmen, dressed in bright vermillion and white and carrying halberds. Both their plates, while relatively clean, were scratched and chipped noticeably. The guard on the right was a bearded man with a eyepatch who held himself with the pose of a veteran. The man of the left was fresh faced and stood straight to attention and seemed to be over correcting his posture.

"Lord-Aquilor, Captain Arronson is waiting for you in the map room, along with Wardan King Kurik." The younger guard stated. To his credit, despite being a a new recruit and despite the fact this was likely the first time he probably spoke to a Stormcast, he did not stutter or hesitate.

"On which floor?" Helena asked before the older guard answered in a gruff voice.

"It's on the first floor, first door on the right to the stairs. There should be two Duradin guards stationed outside of the door, you won't miss it."

Helena nodded in understanding. "Thank you guardsmen." She said before she entered the Manor House.

As one would expect it was not a decorated building; stationed on the frontier meant that there was little budge which could be spend on decoration, though a banner baring the township's crest a, black shield with a rampant bear holding a hammer (an homage to the Astral Templars), was the first thing that met anyone who entered the building. A few guards could be seen, they clearly weren't enjoying the chore that was guard work, but were still alert.

Helena began to make her way towards the stairs, as she began to ascend them she began to mentally review what she had to report. She had sent several patrols into the wastes that surrounded Franzburg after the remaining ghouls. Her brothers and sisters and returned triumphant; they reported that, while some still escaped, none of King Marrow's vassals had escaped. While this didn't mean that the danger of a new flesh eater court springing up was still present, it would not be imminent.

That was were the good news ended; Alric had reported sighting Kairic Acolytes close to the boarder. Said cultists immediately retreated when Alric moved to intercept them, obviously they were attempting to scout the area, and were able to get into the canyons. Alric, in a moment of level headedness, decided that it would be unwise to pursue them and broke off.

Helena had very little doubt that the minions of Tzeentch were coming, if they weren't already here. This was not her first encounter with the disciples of the changer of ways; they were challenging foes who favoured trickery and deceit, two talents they had in abundance. Naturally she aimed to bring this up to the captain, and warn him that they would most likely attempt to infiltrate Franzburg if they hadn't already.

She was already silently debating requesting for a Lord-Veritant to help secure the town. Given their unique talents they were extremely well suited for rooting out chaos cultists and countering the tactics often used by the Disciples of Tzeentch. However they were somewhat intense, and their presence could sometimes set ordinary mortals on edge. In addition the town was smaller compared to the cities cultists often targeted, meaning that even slightly suspicious behaviour that might be missed in a city could be noticed in a town. In the end she decided to hold off that decision until she had an idea of how well the Freeguild guard could protect the town.

On any other day just dealing with Tzeentch cultists was enough of a headache, but Helena had to also deal with a mystery assassin. Of all the matters that she now had to handle, the assassin was the one which frustrated her.

She had very little doubt that it could pose a threat to almost anything that had the misfortune of getting in its way. It was well equipped and experienced, a combination which any being with half a brain would tell you would be absolutely lethal. That wasn't what bothered her; the fact that she knew nothing of it did. Helena was completely in the dark about the assassin. Part of here wondered if it was a demon created by Tzeentch, and only just unveiled as part of some elaborate scheme; Helena wouldn't put it past the changer of ways to engineer some sort of method which rendered enchantments that blocked magic useless, but it didn't bear the mark of mutation which so many minions of Tzeentch possessed. In addition her gut instinct told her that this assassin was unlike anything that anyone had encountered before.

She pushed aside her theories for later once she reached the first floor.

The venerable guardsman was correct, she sighted the room the moment she turned to the right along with two Duradin long beards who both seemed to in a conversation.

"Muskets; bloody useless I tell you."

"Oh, and why do you say that?"

"You need to keep the bloody powder dry, it takes a bloody eternity to reload, and even when you do everything right it still can fail. Why the bloody guardsmen put their faith into them is beyond me."

"Or maybe your jealous that you didn't get an opportunity to kill a Terroghiest."

"I beg your pardon, that was killed by one of our Organ guns."

"Still works on the same principle, plus you were saved by a musket shot."

"I had that ghoul!"

"Swallow your pride and admit that you were in trouble. You don't get to this age without admitting that you needed help."

Helena cleared her throat, gaining the long beards' attention.

Both the Duradin stood to attention once they realised the Lord-Aquilor was standing before them. The left one (who had been complaining about black powder weapons) looking a little sheepish.

"Warden King Kurik Grundson is inside, along with the captain." Both the Duradin guards moved their axes out of the way, allowing the Stormcast to pass. Helena gave her thanks before she entered the map room.

It retained the same pragmatism as the rest of the Manor, the walls were undecorated, unless you counted the barred window and a map of Aqshy. The room itself was fairly well lit, with a large map of the region surrounding Franzburg on a table, with four stool surrounding the map table. The Wardan-King and the captain occupying the west and east sides of the table.

Captain Dietrich Arronson, the commander of the local freeguild forces, was the youngest in the room, having lived for 25 winters, and with slightly messy brown hair and stubble he certainly looked young, but he had already earned a reputation for being a excellent commander. The only reason his forces had suffered heavily during King Marrow's reign was due to poor luck and having only limited resources, considering this his men had proven their worth and punched above their weight when it came time to draw King Marrow's forces away from his keep.

Warden-King Kurik Grundson, head of a clan of Dispossessed who had reclaimed their hold in Aqshy, certainly looked the part. Dressed in ornate, albeit battered, armour and with a long platted grey beard. Despite the fact he was standing on his stool he still managed to retain a dignified air. Many a ghoul had met their end at the sharp end of a Duradin axe, and many a grudge had been settled, due to the Wardan-King's leadership during the battle against the flesh-eater court.

The mortal captain gave a nod of respectful acknowledgment before Grundson spoke.

"Lord-Aquilor Tempestborn." The Duradin spoke with a hearty tone, briefly lightening the atmosphere of the room. "I take it wasn't too much trouble to set up camp on the Ashen plains?"

"No, it wasn't, Warden-King." Helena responded as she took her place at the southern end of the table. "As of now we have a forward camp which we can use to strike against those that would threaten Franzberg and Forgeward, my brothers and sisters have already begun to carry out patrols."

"How have the hunting parties fared?" The captain asked, speaking in a measured tone. In many ways, Dietrich was the opposite of Kurik, he was quiet where the Duradin was loud and seemingly preferred to act with his head rather than his heart (though this didn't mean that any of them relied purely on their head or heart). However they respected each other because both of them had similar duties which both of them had carried out for many years.

"They have fared well; most of the remaining ghouls have been killed, and all of King Marrow's 'vassals' have been laid low. The court has been broken and its unlikely that the remaining ghouls will be able to form a new one any time soon." Helena reported. "While they are no longer an immediate threat, they should not be ignored as they could still attack convoys coming into the Cinderlands."

"Duly noted." The captain commented. "Is there anything else to report?"

"Yes, and unfortunately it is not welcome news." The Lord-Aquilor sighed. "One of my patrols reported Kairic Acolytes close to the fringes of the Ashen Plains here." She tapped her a gauntleted finger on the map at spot the edge of where the Ashen plains gave way to a maze of rocks known locally as the Labyrinth. "The patrol attempted to engage them but the acolytes retreated into the crags. Rather than risk pursuing them into a ambush the Prime in charge of the patrol decided to return and deliver the news."

"Wise decision." Captain Arronson stated. "The Labyrinth is an ambusher's dream; no doubt that they intended to lead them into a trap."

"Ancestors damnit, and here I was hoping we would have a moment of peace before we had to deal with another crisis." Warden-King Grundson mulled. "Still, at least they'll be plenty more opportunities to settle a few matters with the enemy."

"I cannot stress that the importance of remaining on your guard." Helena advised, her tone stern. "Expect them to perform any underhanded tactic, be wary that they will to attempt to undermine the region from within and most importantly, do not underestimate them."

"They'll find us with sharp axes and loaded guns." The Wardan-King banged his hand on the table. "We will not be found wanting."

"I have little doubt that, with some support, my men can protect Franzburg and its people." The captain leaned against the map. "However its the convoys that head into town that I'm concerned about."

"You don't have enough manpower?" Helena asked, she was expecting a problem regarding the number of freeguild soldiers that the captain had available to him.

"It's more about who we lost during the raid on Franzburg rather than how many we lost, though I won't pretend that lack on manpower is not part of the problem." The captain answered, a weary tone of frustration entering his voice. "During the attack, the damn ghouls killed most of our outriders and pistoliers while they were attempting to mount a counter attack, and to make matters worse the a ghoul broke into the stable, to make a long story short, we are now also short of suitable horses. Usually at a time like this I would send outriders to escort the convoys, but we do not enough to put together anything that would help them if it is attacked tonight."

Helena knew what the captain was going to ask, and as much as she wanted to focus on long range patrols and seeing if she could figure out where the Disciples of Tzeentch were, but the guard needed those supplies as well as the town folk. "I'll lead some of my brothers and sisters to ensure it reaches Franzburg, it will mean I'll have to push back some missions I had planned, but we need the supplies."

"The convoy is due to arrive at sundown, from the west, here." Arronson pointed at a long road which lazily wound its way to Franzburg. "Its a safe bet that the cult will attempt an ambush on the convoy." Helena could see why the captain would send additional men; she could see a few spots which could be used for ambushes. She had little doubt that the enemy knew that the town needed those supplies, and that they would do everything they could to prevent them from reaching Franzburg.

"I will ensure that Palladors will be in position to aid them." Helena stated. "Hunters and raptors will join them later."

"That will be enough to protect them." Once the captain was satisfied with Helena's plan of action, he turned to the warden King. "Lord Grundson, do you have anything to report?"

"Other than I'm annoyed at Tzeentch for having to delay celebrations?" He answered, half joking, before he became more serious. "The clan council convened on the fate of the now deceased King Marrow's hold, while they understand that it would be useful to your brother and Sisters, but it's location makes it impractical for our purposes. Due to these reasons, and how it being used to subjugate the region again would be shameful for its original creators, the council has voted to have the fortress demolished rather than risk letting it fall into the wrong hands for a third time, however they, admittedly reluctantly, wish to seek your blessing before beginning the task.

Helena knew that, while the fortress was in a poor position to protect Franzburg and Forgeward, in the future it might have use, either protecting any new settlements that were constructed on the Ashen plains, or as a staging point for a liberation campaign. However in the short term the risks outweighed any benefits.

"Tell them that I am willing to allow them to demolish the building, however make sure that any hex found within is dispelled."

"Aye, I was planning to send a rune-Lord to make sure to deal with any nasty surprises anyway. It will be gone by tomorrow afternoon."

"If that is everything else, there is one last matter to address." Captain Arronson turned to Helena. "The Assassin."

It shamed the Lord-Aquilor had nothing that could give a clue to the assassin's identity, origin, intent or motivation. She was an officer of a Vanguard Auxiliary chamber, the eyes and ears of the Astral Templars. Yet even she had to admit that, despite being somewhat more than merely mortal, she was not aware of all things, she had her limits.

"Quite frankly I'm in the dark like the rest of you." She shook her head tiredly. "I can confirm that the assassin did manage to infiltrate the fortress some time before we entered. It then proceeded to kill any ghouls that were in its way using throwing knives and a sword before slaying King Marrow. We attempted to confront it but the assassin ran and evaded capture. It was able to summon, what I assume was some arcane bow, and was able to turn invisible and made use of some sort of repeating gun when it attacked King Marrow."

"In other words you only know that it's dangerous."

"Dangerous, and illusive. While we were breaking up camp on the way back to Franzburg, one of my hunters found tracks close to the camp which we have reason to believe belonged to the assassin."

"You kept this hidden?" The captain wasn't angry, maybe a little surprised.

"People were still in the process of recovering from being held captive" Helena reasoned. "I didn't want to risk hysteria breaking out. In addition tracks lead away from the camp before they were untraceable. From what I could tell the assassin observed us, before leaving. So far we have had no further sightings."

"I believe it was encountered before by us."

That caught Helena's attention. The Lord-Aquilor listened closely to captain Arrson as he made his account known.

"About three days before King Marrow's attack, a few of my men had been drinking while off duty. I had advised them not to in case they had to be called upon, but said advice fell upon deaf ears. After they were kicked out of the Three-tailed Griffin, they staggered back to their homes. On the way there, private Marcus apparently cried out, causing a bit of a disturbance. When asked why he called out he swore blind that he saw a 'hooded figure with one glowing blue eye' sitting on a roof top before vanishing into thin air. I assumed that it was a ghoul siting and reacted accordingly but found no trace of the figure despite Macus's insistence. Now I see that it wasn't a alcohol infused imagination, but our mystery assassin. I wish I could tell you more but unfortunately Marcus's was among the dead during the attack on Franzburg."

Helena nodded, it was only offered scant new information about the assassin, but she was more than happy to discover a fact which she hadn't known before. It was certainly more than what she expected when she walked through the front door. She committed the captain's story to memory before the Warden-King presented a question.

"Any idea on what this blasted assassin is?"

"I only have theories, however most of them are flawed." Helena stated, at this point she could only give loose theories. "The first one is that it was a Shadowblade Assassin; given that they have the annoying habit of acting without any allies knowing it would seem likely, but it's 'armour' and weapons were not of Aelven design. The second theory is that it was a demon created by one of the chaos gods, given how much of an advantage Tzeentch would have over Khrone if he had access to an agent who could ignore magic nullification, this is a much more likely theory. However after seeing this assassin, I can say that it does not carry the normal stench or characteristics of a demonic creature." She did her best not to sigh or sound tired, though she could feel her frustration at the situation seep through in places. "In any case I have sent word of the assassin to the High-Magister of Hammerhal via a messenger as well as nearby Hosts, in addition I have sent one of the throwing blades that were recovered so that they study it. Perhaps they'll find something that will lead to an answer."

"Any suggestions on how to approach this matter?" The captain asked, his full attention on the Lord-Aquilor's answer.

"Cautiously; I do not recommend you approach it, and I certainly do not recommend that you attempt provoke it. That being said I do intend to try to keep an eye on it, maybe discover more about it. At the very least I don't want to be caught off guard."

"How do we know that it hasn't already left the region?"

"We don't... but I have the feeling we haven't seen the last of it."

Helena knew that you should not ignore your instincts. Sometimes that gut feeling that something was on the horizon had saved her brothers and sisters as well as herself more times than she could count. In the realm of life, it allowed her to strike at Lord Bileglut directly, in Charamon it saved her host from a horde of Ironjaws, even in the few blurry memories of her past, she could recall times were her instincts had proven to be her saving grace.

* * *

Mara placed her hand against the glass of the incubator as she looked at Sakura as she laid, awaiting her time to awaken. Before her a holographic display showed the Kubrow's heart rate, brain activity, DNA stability, and every other vital sign. Even through the rubbery fingertips of her jump suit, she could feel the cold hard glass.

She often favoured isolation, she never considered herself to be extrovert and she was used to acting on her own during the old war (usually to the chagrin of the golden lords). However she knew that she could never withstand true solitude, that was way she was thankful for the company she had, namely Logi and Sakura, or on occasions, Nemo and Ordis.

Many people believed that isolation would allow them to numb themselves, to protect themselves from the sorrow that followed loss. However Mara found that was not the case, in fact it was somewhat the opposite. She learned to value the small circle of friends and companions she kept, this meant that she would feel their loss or hurt more keenly.

"Mara, it's time."

The operator nodded in response to the Cephalon, before she moved down the slope. Passing her stationary Ivara, the Plink in its gaudy orange and blue on the warframe's hip, along with her trademark Nikana, while a modified black Vulkar was mounted on her back. On the way down she passed the infirmary door, the red holographic circle in front of it marked the door as locked, a few scorch marks remained on the floor after she reminded her unwanted, but unfortunately irreplaceable, passenger that they were not welcome beyond the confines of the infirmary; she knew well enough the necessary evils that were performed in the name of the greater good, she didn't need another reminder.

She came the door towards the Transference chamber; since mastering the required techniques she didn't need to walk to the chamber, but often she took the walk so she could calm herself before a sortie.

The door opened to reveal the transference pod, a bulbous bronze thing which was suspend by the long pure white Arboriform 'vines'. The pod sat open, awaiting the operator to seat herself. Even though many of the systems carried by the pod were now unneeded by her, Mara still used it to control her warframe's out of habit, Nemo also insisted on using his own pod on his Orbiter despite the fact the transference circuit was broken beyond repair (what was he thinking charging into the Twin Queen's den?), and from what Teshin told her other Tenno who had awoken did the same.

She walked towards the pod, welcoming the chilled air. While the temperature was tolerable inside the orbiter, it still felt stuffy to the Operator. This room however often remained at its current temperature due to the strange Arboriforms that helped maintain the pod's functionality.

She slowly climbed into the chair, her hands laying at the end of the arm rests. She close her eyes as the pod slowly closed, surrounding her in darkness.

She relaxed her muscles as she felt the Void. She felt the flowing energies that she was familiar with, akin the waves the ocean on a normal day; rhythmic and calm, but with underlying strength that only a fool would underestimate.

She slowly untethered herself from her physical body, she felt her normal senses leave her as she cast her mind outwards. She felt the minds of her other two warframes, an agile Zephyr and a brutal Rhino, waiting in the Orbiter's cargo hold until they were called upon. She reached out towards her Ivara who stood at the arsenal terminal.

She felt the Ivara's consciousness, faded but still present, waiting for the operator. Mara began the process of transferring her own consciousness to the warframe, their minds becoming part of a single whole as the operator's energies began to animate her limbs.

When Mara opened her eyes, she was looking through her warframe's eyes.

The Tenno reached for the black Vulkar and detached it from the back mag-holster. She cradled the modified Grineer weapon in her hold as she walked towards the airlock.

* * *

Helena stood next to Squall as her brothers began to mount up on their Gryph-Chargers underneath the Aqshyian dusk. She watched as they rallied to her and Alric.

The camp was always a hive of activity; the Astral Templars were somewhat restless and her host was no exception. The Stormcast spent every waking hour either on patrol, seeing to their weapons, sparing, wrestling or recounting sagas, stories and songs from their mortal lives or their various journey. To some of her brothers and sisters in other hosts, this chaos may seem overwhelming, to Helena though it was comforting to an extent. She remembered the constant bustling energy of her mortal tribe's camp, those few fleeting memories brought her a sense of calm, allowing her to find her centre and focus on her mission. In the mist of the organised mayhem that was the Astral Templars mustering to ride out, she had gained her composure and was ready for whatever was thrown at her tonight.

She turned to her right to see Alric on his own Gryph-Charger. The Pallador-Prime was almost finished readying up, checking his Boltstorm pistol. Despite being on one of the longest patrols that day, Alric and his steed were not tired. If anything they were eager to be out in the field again.

Helena climbed onto Squall's saddle, placing her feet on the stirrups before addressing Alric.

"You ready for tonight?"

Alric gave the Lord-Aquilor a nod of affirmation before he placed his Boltstorm in its holster, the vertical limbs folding against the pistol as it was stowed.

"Truthfully I'm looking forward to getting to grips with the enemy, particularly after they eluded us." He said as he placed his Warhelm over his head.

"The disciples of Tzeentch like to have the element of surprise." Helena reminded him as she donned her own Warhelm. "I would like to think they would like to get to grips with the one who warned everyone."

"Oh they can try, but they'll be disappointed."

"Funny, just be careful." Helena advised before she turned to her assembled Palladors.

"Brothers! We ride!" She roared as she urged Squall forwards. Her own voice was soon joined by her fellow Stormcast before the sound of hooves and claws against the dusty ground.

* * *

**AN: Sooooo... I really wasn't expecting this to blow up like it did (by my standards, at least). As mentioned before I wasn't sure if it should remain a one shot or continue as a full scale project, well I think I got my answer!**

**I will warn you; there may be a delay between CH2 and CH3, since I'm going to actually try and plan things out as well as do some world building, or rather world connecting (the relationship between chaos and the Void is going to take up a good chunk of that.) Honestly I feel like I rushed this chapter as I wanted to communicate that I intended to take this project up a notch.**

**A few things other things. The operator for this story is female and not the 'prime' operator, meaning she did not participate in any of the canon quests (though has second hand knowledge of some of the prime operator's misadventures). Sorry for any confusion caused by some innocent pronouns, the gender of the operator and the warframe used changed several times, I'm probably going to go back and correct some mistakes sooner rather than later.**

**Timeline wise, this story takes place post-necroquake in the Mortal realms but prior to events unfolding during forbidden powers and in between the war within and the chains of Harrow in the Warframe universe.**

**Off topic: I watched the Tennolive stream on the sixth, I can describe it like so: Holy shit, the new war! Holy shit, Railjacks! Holy shit, zombie Dax! HOLY SHIT, THE OPERATOR GREW UP!?**

**Yeah... I'm exited for the New War, Ephemera and the Duviri paradox.**

**Anyway, please favourite and follow if you like what you read, and please leave a review. Hope you have a nice day and I'll see you soon!**


	3. Stormlit Shadows

The only sounds that he could hear was his own breathing and his own heartbeat.

Ulthan knew about the battle raging around his wagon, he knew he should be hearing the sound of swords clashing against steel, the warcries of the mercenaries and cultists as they fought against one another, the crackle of sorcerous bolts, the sound of muskets and pistols.

His father was a Loremaster; Ulthan knew he had fought in serveral battles, before he had been asked to serve in Hammerhal as part of its guard. He had told him stories of Stormcast mounted on mighty Stardrakes slaying greater demons, of sudden Sylvaneth ambushes against Ogres, and more besides. Yet none of the stories, no matter how much detail he gave, no matter how well he trained Ulthan, it could never truly prepare him for the real thing.

"Oi! Wake up!"

Ulthan snapped himself out of his shock once he heard the voice of one of the mercenaries. He turned to see a bald man, possibly close to middle age. Half of his face was covered by a roaring lion tattoo. He stood tall, his build made it possible to mistake him for a short ogre. The simple, chipped steel plate that covered his torso and the studded leather provided him with amble protection, the scars that covered his exposed arms attested to the fact that he was not unused to getting himself in and out of troubld.

"Sorry Turic." Ulthan said sheepishly as he drew his sword. Unlike Turic, Ulthan wasn't assigned to protect the caravan, rather he had hitchhiked when his father told him to leave Hammerhal. Most of the mercenaries left him alone but weren't unpleasant to him, they had been paid extra to discreetly transport him to Franzburg. Turic kept him company as the wagons trundled towards the Cinderlands, often regaling him stories of his childhood in Ghur, including a unbelievable escape from Orruks and Chaos tribesmen on the Jagged Savannah.

Turic gave a smile before the cart in front of the one that the mercenary and the Aelf were hiding behind suddenly burst into sorcerous flame, prompting a string of curses from Turic.

"Alright, we're going to head out of here and head east. Stormcast should have seen the smoke and should get you to Franzburg." He said, clutching a battered buckler and a rather brutal mace. "If I die or get wounded, don't stop."

Ulthan felt his pride prickle a little bit and was about to remark that he could fight when Turic spoke again. "I know you want to help, and I know you can fight, but your father didn't pay us to get you killed, and Captain has given me orders to get you out of here." Ulthan nodded, realising that he wasn't going to win an argument with the Ghurian mercenary, not to meantion it would be a complete waste of time.

Turic nodded before inching forwards before peaking out of the cover provided by the wagon. He turned around with a serious expression about two seconds later. "Its not going to get any better, we go now."

Ulthan nodded again before Turic and the Aelf began to move briskly out of cover.

The sight that greeted Ulthan was one of carnage.

The convoy sat stationary as mercenaries dressed in similarly rugged armour fought against Kairic acolytes and Tzaangors. The rock fields that surrounded the road played host to natural monoliths which towered over the battlefield. Dead from both sides littered the ground, limbs and heads severed from their bodies with blood and viscera decorated the dusty ground. Burnt corpses of men and horses, victims of the initial attack, laid on the ground, one was still screaming and flailing around in a futile attempt to save himself as sinister fire did its gruesome work.

His father had warned Ulthan that the battlefield was not a kind place, that it was cruel and punishing for mind, body and spirit and that a single mistake could cost him his life. Yet Ulthan felt like training with one of Hammerhal's greatest sword masters would give him some preparation.

Evidently he was wrong.

He kept constantly alert as he and Turic moved from cover to cover, hoping to escape unnoticed by the Cultists and Tzaangors, the remaining mercianeries were holding, albeit barely.

They had nearly reached the third wagon on when a wiry blue figure stalked out from behind the front of the wagon. Nearly as tall as Turic, the twin headed Tzaangor, armed with two vicious beaks with razor sharp teeth, long cruel claws and a two savage looking blades with eyes which stared at Ulthan with uncomfortably intensity, was certainly something that neither the mercenary or the Aelf wanted to see.

The Tzaangor's left head, a grotesque skinless thing, let loose a shrieking, bloodthirsty cry, while the right head chuckled sinisterly before the mutated creature suddenly hurled itself at Turic, with a wild swing of a blade it aimed to remove Turic's head from his shoulders. With a loud clang it collided with the buckler before Turic swung his mace. The beast managed to jump back enough to evade the blow, though the crude metal club did manage to connect with the Tzaangor's left hand with bone shattering results.

"GO!" Turic yelled at the top of his voice to be heard over the Tzaangor's dreadful screech before the mutant redoubled its attack on the mercenary.

Ulthan froze, hesitation seizing his body. He could already see that Turic was dangerously close to being overwhelmed by the mutant and without any sort of aid he would surely be slain. He was trained by a master of the blade. Surely he would be able to help.

Ulthan heard a pebble clatter behind him. He spun round to see two men, lacking any clothing save simple trousers, some armour and leering bronze masks which covered their faces. One held an axe which were shaped to resemble an icon of Tzeentch and a dagger while the other held a sword and a shield in his hands.

Kairic Acolytes.

Ulthan held his blade in a death grip as he now realised he had to stand and fight whether he liked it or not.

For a moment the world slowed as adrenaline coursed through the Aelf's veins, as fight overcame flight instincts he waited for the cultists to make the first move.

The duel wielding acolyte suddenly surged forwards with savage energy as he lunged, seemingly hoping to impale the Aelf's shoulder with his blade. The Aelf side stepped his attack and swung his blade upwards. The sword cut through flesh and bone with contemptuous ease.

The acolyte fell to the ground, blood mingling with dust before impact, within the space of a few seconds he was dying, surrounded by a pool of dark red fluid. He only had barely enough strength o groan in pain as he took his last living breaths. All the while adrenaline coursed through the Aelf's veins.

A pained gasp suddenly sounded behind of Ulthan. He spun Lund to see that the Tzaangor had stopped Turic in the gut. The mutant was not content with simply just leaving the mercenary to die. It let go of the blade before it reached out and tore out Turic's throat with it's claws.

That was the last thing Ulthan saw before the cold hard pommel of the second acolyte's sword smacked into the Aelf's head, robbing him of consciousness before he had any sort of attempt at escape or revenge.

* * *

Already Helena was on alert as the mounted Stormcast thundered across the Ashen plains.

The ride out of the camp had been fairly normal, the sounds of their steeds galloping across the terrain being the only thing that punctured the quiet save for the occasional piece of good natured banter between her brothers. She usually let them talk for a short while after leaving camp, as long as they remained vigilant and alert and once they reached the point where enemy contact was likely they focused completely.

Soon enough the banter ended and each one of the Stormcast readied themselves for what was inevitably going to be a long evening for them. Even if the convoy didn't come under attack by some miracle, they could not afford to let their guard down for a single second until the final wagon had rolled past the town gates. Franzburg had no appropriate moorings for Skyships and due to the funding that had been diverted to other areas it would be unlikely that the town would receive dockyards for vessels in the immediate future. A shame because, even though it would only be slightly more secure, it would be quicker.

However a while into the ride, she began to feel unease in her stomach. Her instincts screamed that the convoy was in danger, they begged her to not tarry a moment more and ride as fast as Squall could carry her.

It took barely a moment more before her instincts were proven right.

A gust of wind blew against the Stormcast, bringing the sulphuric scent of gunpowder, along with the coppery scent of blood and a foul brimstone stench which was all to familiar to the Stormcast.

Just as the scent hit them the sounds of battle reached their ears, swords clashing, men gun firing, men dying. The dreadfully familiar orchestra confirmed that the Lord-Aquilor's suspicions were correct, unfortunately.

"I see smoke! Right ahead of us!" One Pallador called out. Sure enough a black pillar of smoke rose over the horizon. That only reinforced Helena's suspicions.

"I think we can assume the disciples has beat us to the convoy." Helena stated as Squall sprinted forwards, now putting on additional speed towards the could of smoke.

"We should make haste and ride the winds! We've kept the guards waiting long enough!" Alric called out to the Lord-Aquilor, who nodded in response.

"A wise move. Be ready to ride the Aetheric winds!" She ordered. "Pallador-Prime, give the signal when ready!"

"Yes Sir! Be ready!"

Each one of the brothers gave some variation of 'affirmative' before they awaited the signal to begin riding the winds. Gryph-chargers were used by light Calvary prior to Sigmar forging the Stormcast, their spreed and agility was nigh peerless and they allowed riders to easily flank their enemies, respond to developing situations rapidly or retreat and reposition. Though they weren't are tough and durable as Dracoths or as savage as Dracolines, they possessed far greater agility than both, making them the perfect choice for the Vanguard-Auxiliary. Palladors and any other Stormcast who road Gryph-chargers were vigorously trained in using the winds to traverse the battlefield quickly to suddenly appeared at an unexpected quarter, some other Stormcast, most notably Neave Blacktalon from the Hammer of Sigmar, even learnt to ride the backdrafts, allowing them to be in the perfect position to support the charge. Alric had proven himself to be a master at riding the Aetheric Winds during training, an achievement which earned him the title Swiftstride. Yet it still demanded precise timing, mistakes could case injuries or even deaths, but even if everything went perfect, with a well trained rider and steed, mishaps could still occur.

Alric waited for the opportune moment to give the signal so that the mounted Stormcast would be able to signal their steeds to transmute themselves into the wind.

He saw it.

"Go!"

Instantly the riders began the shift. To any observers the riders would each dissipate into a golden glowing cloud which crackled with celestial lighting, though to the naked eye it would be more akin to a golden blur racing over the Ashen plains, the winds howling in their wake.

The riders allowed the currents to carry them towards the convoy, only pushing against them slightly to make sure they weren't suddenly blown off course. Before long the battle was in sight. The surviving mercenaries had managed to rally together and were currently holding out against the onslaught of cultists and mutants. Some of the enemy were waiting in the direction that the Palladors intended to arrive from, obviously they had predicted that they were coming, but they were still getting into position by the time the Palladors had reached them.

A fatal error which they would realise when the Stormcast became material again and crash into them. As they materialised many cultists suddenly found themselves torn apart by Boltstorm volleys and Gryph-Charger claws. Helena wasted no time in getting stuck in, she raised her own pistol and fired into the cultist's ranks, a few shots bounced off shields or missed, those that found their mark did so with deadly results as the scent of blood and scorched flesh. With her hand already drawing her sword she roared a battle cry in a voice that would have made the white bear Ursircht proud.

"For Sigmar! For the Astral Templars!"

Her brothers roared in response as they plunged into the enemy.

* * *

Mara moved across the wastelands with the grace and silence of a wild Kavat. She darted across the open, stopping in what little cover was available to survey her surroundings before moving on. Even though she was still learning about the realm of Aqshy, she had fought in enough theatres of war to have a range of tactics and strategies which she could use for the Ashen plains, those developed while she tailed Grineer patrols on the plains of Eidolon where particularly useful.

She held the Vulkar in her arms, ready to raise it in a firing position at a moments notice. She had made numerous modifications to the weapon, including adding a sound suppression system, it wasn't enough to completely silence the weapon but it would be enough to make it tricky for an enemy to locate her firing position. Of course it still had a three round magazine, meaning that she needed to make every shot count if things took a turn for the worse. That being said if anyone successfully closed in on her, the Plinx and her Nikana were more than adequate for close quarters.

She could have taken it into King Marrow's fortress, but the last time she took a sniper rifle into an enclosed environment (a Grineer resource asteroid), she only scored a dozen with it, if you counted the poor butcher who was beaten to death with it.

She continued to move towards the road. She had made a rough guess as to where she would find the convoy. Once again she was going in semi-blind, though this time she had at least a better knowledge of the terrain, though the security detail of the convoy remained a half-mystery. From what she gathered from various conversations she eavesdropped on, the convoy was accompanied by mercenaries who would be joined by cavalry. However the flesh eater court may mean that the security detail might be different from the normal composition. The local militia had taken notable casualties during King Marrow's reign, which could mean that they wouldn't be able to send additional personnel. The more she reviewed what intelligence she wanted to gather, the more she realised that she still had only a little bit of reliable information information on the Stormcast, since most of what she heard was from singers and storytellers. She had only a basic idea of their tactics, capabilities, and modus operandi. While some might say that this would enough, Mara knew otherwise. She also realised that she may have an opportunity to observe the Stormcast if the captain was unable to send any of his men.

The first sign that something was wrong for Mara was the smoke on the horizon, somewhat close to the predicted position of the convoy. From what she had gathered, the convoy always arrived during the evening and stayed in Franzburg for the rest of the night before departing in the morning and she wasn't aware of any camps in this direction, so she could immediately rule out camp fires as a likely source, that left two other reasons as to why there was fire and smoke; an accident, or an attack.

Mara quietly cursed her luck, and headed towards the smoke to investigate. She did not activate her cloak as it would drain energy unnecessarily, and instead moved slowly and cautiously. She felt safe in saying that she would probably have to clean her blade after tonight; as much as she wished to remain nothing more than a observer for now, it may become necessary for her to intervene. For now though she would watch the situation.

As she closed the distance between her and the smoke she began to hear the distinct sound of metal meeting metal. Now she could say with confidence that the convoy was under attack. By this time she was advancing through a sparse field of spire like rocks, each one reaching up towards the sky like the fingers of a dying god. When she reached the last spire the noise sounded close enough that she could probably take potshots at anyone close to the convoy.

She locked her rifle on her back before she placed her hand against the deep crimson coloured rock. She felt warmth pulse through it almost rhythmically, as though it was blood coursing through someone's veins. She never felt she had accidentally made an analogy which seemed so fitting.

Pushing her thoughts aside she crouched down before pushing herself high into the air like bullet. She felt the air rush around her body as she corkscrewed skywards before gravity began to drag her back down. Placing her feet on a shallow foothold, she pushed upwards as she dragged herself towards the top of the spire. An arm reached upwards and grasped the side of the top of the spire. She pulled herself up in a single fluid motion so that she was now crouched on the spire.

Mara gazed at the source of the sounds. She could see the struggle between mercenaries and a group of armed men, yielding pole axes, curving swords and elegant shields while only wearing pants, strange bronze masks and pieces of blue armour, and strange, blue skinned, avian-humanoid creatures who wielded similar weapons and wore similar blue armour.

She plucked an arrow from the holder on her Warfame's right shoulder. As she did a amathyst coloured, diamond shaped arrow tip began to materialise from the arrow shaft. Satisfied that she had the correct arrow, she flipped it and then thrust it into the rock beneath her feet.

In an instant she disappeared from sight. Cloaking arrows were difficult to use outside of their support role, but one thing they were good for was helping create little sniper nests. They were more energy efficient than using Ivara's cloaking system, especially since Mara intended to remain stationary for now.

Mara unholster her sniper rifle once again but didn't look down its sights. Instead she held it ready as she observed the situation from a distance. Judging from what she could see, the mercs had managed to rally round and were digging their heels in and despite having taken a lot of early causalities, they were starting to pull the situation back. Yet the aggressors still held the advantage in terms of numbers, which made their decision to have some of their forces take up defensive positions at the front of the now stopped convoy somewhat baffling. Why did they not use their numbers to overwhelm the mercs and finish the fight?

Still, despite this miscalculation the fight could still go either ways. Mara silently debated how she was going to adjust the odds without immediately tipping off either side that there was a Tenno (or whatever name the denizens of this place had given her). Her position, paired with the cloak arrow and suppressed Vulkar, ensured she could take advantage of the target rich environment, that being said she couldn't get careless; both the mercs and the aggressors would certainly notice heads being blown off.

Her mental debate was interrupted by a streak of blue lightning shrouded light raced towards the aggressors. It moved with such swiftness that even Mara didn't fully register its presence until it was about a second away from the convoy. Suddenly the light began to take a form, namely the form of purple clad Stormcast and their strange bird-horse hybrid steeds. Despite only becoming material a few seconds ago they maintained their momentum as they crashed into the aggressor's defensive lines, immediately they began to hack into the aggressors with a vengeance. Helena was particularly vicious as she made her assault; on several occasions she shattered shields and even enemy blades, often cleaving into the enemy with the same strike.

At this point, Mara could see the writing on the wall, the aggressors could probably hold out for a couple of moments before the Stormcast would overwhelm them and completely annihilate those that did not manage to withdraw. Mara would continue her observations though, hoping to learn more about the Stormcast and the aggressors. She had just begun to settle down when she spotted movement out of the corner of her warframe's eyes.

A group of the aggressors, six humans and three avian creatures, where leaving the battle as discreetly as possible, and to their credit neither the mercenaries or the Stormcast had notice them slipping away. One of the avian creatures was carrying a human (or at least humanoid), who was bound and gagged. Male, probably late adolescent, fair skin and blond hair which was about three shade away from being white. Clothing material looked too fine to belong to any of the caravans normal personal.

A thought occurred to Mara, perhaps the attack was intended to be diversion, that the disruption of supply lines was merely a secondary objective, that this abduction was the true objective.

Whatever the case, they were not in sight of the battle, but Mara had a shot on them.

The Tenno raised the rifle to her shoulder, the stock pressing against her Ivara's shoulder a little uncomfortably. Ignoring the discomfort caused by the Grineer weapon's construction, she gazed down the scope, which gave her a visual feed from the optical system mounted on the barrel. Slowly and calmly she began to draw a bead on her first target's head.

Her finger rested on the trigger.

* * *

Ulthan slowly began to come to his senses. For a moment his vision was swimming so badly that he couldn't make heads or tails of his situation. For a moment he thought he was now in the underworlds of Shyish, until he felt the familiar warm Aqshy air.

The Aelf's vision began to clear, albeit only enough to distinguish the figures around him. However he was able recall the events which lead to him being robbed of his consciousness with clarity before his vision had fully returned. He knew what he would be greeted be when it did.

That did not bring him even a slither or comfort.

His very rational fears were confirmed when he saw that three Kairic Acolytes were walking behind the disciple who was carrying him, their bronze masks seemingly bearing victorious grins as they walked silently across the sands, next to them was a Tzaangor with two small horns with a large great sword hanging off its back. To make matters worse he was being carried by a the Tzaangor who had killed Turic as he could see it's second fleshy head, in addition Ulthan's sword was hanging off its belt. In front of the mutant was another Tzaangor with long curving horns (probably the leader of the group), along with three more Acolytes.

Ulthan felt his heart hammer against his ribs. It wouldn't take anybody long to stumble across a story detailing what happened to those that the servants of the Chaos Gods took alive.

Forgotting any dignity he had, Ulthan began to struggle desperately. He knew very well that every limb was bound with thick rope, and that his mouth was gagged, but instinct had taken hold, and even if their was only a fraction of a chance of success, he would make every effort to escape before the cultists get what they wanted from the Aelf.

His struggling achieved very little. Two of the Acolytes behind him made some sort of remark to each other in a hissing, clicking tongue known only to them before the Tzaangor bringing up the rear walked up to the trussed up Aelf. The mutant grinned as it reached out and held a single taloned finger which was pressed against the Aelf's throat, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough for Ulthan to definitely feel it.

"Foolish Aelf child." The Tzaangor spoke in a hissing, mocking tone, it's beak seemingly twisted into a cruel smile. "The dice have already been rolled... and there's nothing you can do to change the result of this round of the great game... just as your father could not change his fate."

At this point Ulthan was hyperventilating desperately and his body was stock still. By now fear had taken over his body as the Tzaangor gloated. He tried to keep some form of composure in hopes of retaining his dignity with little success; he wasn't give this creature the satisfaction of scaring him.

The Tzaangor was about to continue when Ulthan heard something wiz through air. Then the Tzaangor's head exploded in a shower of gore.

Ulthan's eyes suddenly went wide as a decaptated mutant fell to the ground, blood mingling with the sands. At first he thought that the mercenaries had found them, and a marksmen had blown off its head, but he saw no smoke, heard no gunshot. That scared him far more than the Tzaangor. Each of the cultists cursed, and began speaking in their tongue hurriedly, all of a sudden the surety of their success was gone.

The first victim's corpse had barely cooled before a second projectile could be heard traveling through the air before the gruesome sound of a head being cracked open was heard, this time at the front of the group. By now he could feel the rising panic as the fact that a unknown assailant was beginning to pick them off one by one sunk in.

The response to this revelation, a series of orders were hissed in the cultist's secret tongue before the survivors began to make haste. Ulthan was jostled around as the Tzaangor carrying him broke into a sprint. The Aelf heard a third gristly _splatch_ from the front of the fleeing warband, as the cultists ran for cover they left behind a third headless comrade.

* * *

Mara calmly reloaded her weapon as she watched the fleeing aggressors run for a cluster of rocks, her Warframe's hands moving with practiced precision. So far they were behaving as she was expecting.

If their was one thing that soldiers from across the origin system agreed on, it was that the prospect of unwittingly straying into the crosshairs of a well hidden sniper was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that someone could take your life before you even realised that you were no longer on your feet was a very rational fear. This fact was clearly true here; after she killed the first bird creature, who seemed to be taunting the prisoner, the group attempted to try and locate her, when she killed the second bird creature, the group panicked.

After using her third shot to kill one of the humans, the aggressors ran into a cluster rocks. From what she could see their were three ways of exiting the cluster, each of them would place them in her firing line; so long as Mara was careful, they were cornered. However the clock was ticking as she was certain the Stormcast and mercenaries would be finished mopping up the aggressors soon. In addition the aggressors would not remain panicked forever, and might figure out where Mara was, a real possibility considering that she only had a few seconds left before her cloak arrow expired. If they decided to use the hostage as a human shield she wouldn't be able to shoot without endangering his life. To make matters worse this was the only good vantage point. She weighed up her options before she decided it was time to engage in close quarters combat.

Yet again, I'm throwing myself at the enemy and hoping for the best. She pushed her mental complaint aside as she stepped off the spire she had been standing on. The wind whistled past her Warframe as she plummeted towards the ground before she landed on her feet with grace.

The moment her feet met the ground, she brought her rifle back to her shoulder and activated her cloak, hiding her from the naked eye. Looking at the energy she had, she would be able to get close to her quarry, and would be able to get into an advantageous position, after that though she would only have enough energy to make a stealthy retreat once she was finished. She began to move forwards slowly and steadily as to minimise the energy drain from her cloak.

In absolute silence she crept forwards, stalking closer and closer to the doomed aggressors. Though focused on her quarry she maintained an awareness of her surroundings. She noted that the sounds of battle had quieted a little, by now the Stormcast were probably dealing with last of the stragglers.

From here on, the more time she spent, the more likely the Stormcast were going to find her. She could not afford to take any more time than was necessary.

Just as she was three quarters of the way towards the rocks she spotted one of the aggressors, a human, peeking out of cover with his turquoise shield covering his torso. From his point of view he was observing a reasonable amount of caution, his shield protected him from body shots while his mask would decrease the chance of him being killed by a headshot. However Mara knew it was a major misstep, her Vulkar, even though it's preferred target were those protected by Corpus shielding, could penetrate the mask and the shield.

Mara looked down the scope of her rifle as she came to a halt. She rested the dot at the centre of her crosshair with practiced precision, braced her rifle against her shoulder and pulled the trigger. The moment she did the sniper rife bucked, the uncomfortable stock making itself known as it pushed against her Warframe's shoulder, the sound of the gunshot was no louder than a polite cough. The cloak flickered a bit, but the Warframe was only visible for a split second. Mara brought the weapon back to its original position just in time to see an explosion of red as the man's head was promptly removed from existence in a spectacular fashion.

Mara barely stopped long enough to confirm her kill before she continued her silent advance; move and strike, that was the basis of the Tenno methodology of warfare.

Her quarry did not attempt to push out of cover as she slowly closed the distance, having now discovered that a sharpshooter does not need a high volume of fire in order to convince the enemy to keep their heads down. Slowly she made her way to the rock which the still twitching corpse was laying close to before she clambered up it. Before long she was gazing down at the surviving aggressors like a predatory bird.

The five survivors had pressed themselves against the stone walls, hiding from their unseen assailant, two against the rock Mara was standing on, three, including the remaining bird creature, against the rock to it's right with the hostage opposite them. The remaining humans were carrying swords and shields while the bird like creature held a single axe in its right hand and a sword (which didn't seem to belong to it) hung off its belt, the other hand seemed to be extremely mangled.

She had seen the human aggressors hurl fiery bolts during the attack on the convoy. She decided that tactics she often used to deal with shield lancers would probably be effective. However the bird creature could be an issue; while some may decided to ignore a weakened foe, in a situation where you are outnumbered you need to reduce the number of threats. Following that reasoning Mara decided that it should be the first to die. In addition to being wounded Mara had witnessed these creatures savagery, which would make it even more dangerous in confined quarters.

Mara clipped her sniper back onto her back before she silently dropped off her perch, right next to the bird creature with one hand on her Nikana and her other ready to unholster her pistol while still cloaked. Both of her first prey's heads were risking a peek around the corner, hoping that they would catch a glimpse of the sharpshooter that had taking potshots at them while not becoming another corpse.

Mara dropped her cloak, her warframe suddenly becoming visible before she sprung towards the bird creature, her blade already half out of the scabbard, steel glinting wickedly. The Tenno could see the bird creature's eyes widen as it realised the attacker was right on top of them and give a shrill screech. By then it was too late. Mara's blade slashed through the air in a horizontal arc of silver and blue which was quickly joined by spurts of foul black liquid as the Nikana cut through flesh and bone as it ripped through the creature's torso.

The creature was just starting to hit the ground as the when Mara had hasten towards the two humans who had been hiding along side it. She kept the momentum from her initial strike. Their comrade had warned them that they were under attack, but it would still be too late for them. Her blade flashed twice, crimson blood splattered around her as her blade did its lethal work before they got a glimpse of their adversary.

The last two humans had managed to rally and face the Tenno as their comrades fell to the dusty ground, shields raised in front of their bodies to protect themselves, in their hands were small balls of flame. Mara recognised their intent.

With her free hand she clasped her Plinx and raised the gaudy pistol so that she was gazing down the sights. In the time she did so both aggressors had stretched their free hands out, preparing to throw their arcane projectiles at the Warframe in hopes of beating the Tenno to the draw. For one, it was a vain hope as Mara levelled her pistol with precision before she pulled the trigger. The Corpus engineered sidearm fired a beam of energy the width of a pencil which burned through the target's mask and head with the heat of a sun. His brain was fried in an instant as he crumbled to the ground, the conjured flames guttering out as he died. The second aggressor managed a cast his bolt, energies leaping out of his hand in a concentrated super-heated bolt. Mara had enough time and space to move her torso instinctively, so that her back would catch the shot at an angle, an little trick used widely by Tenno and Corpus to minimise the amount of damage taken, though it wouldn't be as effective against the arcane bolt. She felt heat whip across her back as the fiery bolt impacted against her shields, but the shields held, albeit not as much as she would have liked, as the flames licked against them harmlessly for a few seconds before disappearing. During that period she had raised her sights and trained it on the head of the remaining aggressor. Another trigger pull put an end to his life, his body falling to the floor after another beam pierced a hole in his head.

Mara kept her gun raised as she observed her surroundings, scanning for any additional threats that had presented themselves during her deadly dance. Once she was satisfied that she and the hostage were the last two living beings in the immediate area, Mara clipped her pistol to her Ivara's hip before turning her attention to the hostage.

Now that she was closer, she realised that he had pointed ears, he was probably not as human as Mara believed. Still he had the very human emotion of fear in his green eyes as he realised he was standing in the presence of a apex killer who was more than capable at doing her job. The Tenno was used to these sorts of looks, especially from Ostron or Solari civilians, many of them regarded them or their supernatural abilities as myth until they witness one tear through enemies with contemptuous ease.

Mara knelt down before she grasped hold of the hostage's arm, she knew she was being somewhat rough but she needed him to keep his limbs still. She carefully rested her Nikana against the ropes that bound her arms and began to channel energy into the blade. The blade glowed a sapphire blue as it cut through the tight bundles of plant fibre. After the rope fell from the hostage's wrist she repeated this process with the rope around his ankles, though thankfully he had gotten her silent message and kept his legs still as she cut through his last binds.

As soon as his legs were free the now former hostage scrambled away from the Tenno, tear off his gag as he pulled the sword on the bird creature's belt free from its scabbard and held it in a defensive position. Mara didn't doubt that he had seen enough to now that if she wanted him dead, he would not be alive right now, but his survival instincts were in overdrive.

She simply just stood up before jumping onto the rock the largest rock and surveying her surroundings. Again she saw nothing; no hostile reinforcements, Stormcast or mercenaries. The cost was clear as far as the Tenno could see, though judging by the roars of victory the Stormcast had successfully driven off the aggressors.

"Who are you?!"

Mara turned her attention to the freed hostage. As she was observing her surroundings, he had retrieved the scabbard from the corpse of the bird creature and had now lowered his sword, lessening the chance of him doing something extremely stupid by a significant margin. The Tenno silently debated dignifying him with an answer. She was currently an enigma to everyone in the mortal realms, though eventually Helena would begin to put together the truth. Perhaps it was time to drop a subtle clue as to her intentions?

"What are you?"

Mara paused before she gave an answer.

"Tenno."

The freed hostage started a little at the sound of the voice of the Warframe, which sounded more like two feminine voices speaking in perfect synchronisation, overlaid to the point were it was nigh impossible to discern anything that could be used to identify Mara. His bafflement was clear.

Mara turned away. Like it or not, she would probably end up having to take a side in order to survive and have a chance of returning to the origin system, and like it or not she had extremely limited options. She still intended to perform some more observation work before she stepped into the light, but by giving Helena a shred of information she felt like she would communicate that she did not have hostile intentions.

At least that was Mara's intent; the Lord-Aquilor may interpret it differently, but the Tenno had made her decision, there was no turning back.

She sheathed her sword before she raised her Plinx skywards and discharged three shots into the sky, the blue energies lancing through the night before the Tenno disappeared into the night like a phantom.

* * *

Aventis Firestrike, high Magister of Hammerhal, slowly made his way through the maze like laboratory of Eisen Oswal.

As a Lord-Arcanum of the Hammers of Sigmar he was no stranger to magical laboratories; the Sancrosant chambers where primarily seen by mortal folk on the field of battle, where they smote the enemy with lightning and celestial magic, or known by them for their role in reforging, the process which allowed Stormcast to be reincarnated, yet they sometimes played the role of scholar, furthering their knowledge in magic and engineering to aid the Storm eternal in the war against Chaos and the dead. Their mortal counterparts, the Collegiate Arcane, where no different; on top of educating young mages on how best to use their powers and fighting alongside the armies of the free peoples, they often undertook research projects. Due to his responsibilities as High-Magister he often played a role in supervising these projects, meaning he had seen a lot of Collegiate laboratories.

He had yet to find a laboratory like Eisen's. It was a maze of shelves and tables, each one was filled with samples, experiments, instruments both mundane and magical and notes and journals. It continued to amazing Aventis that such a workplace for a wizard could be so untidy.

He turned a corner, past a table which contained a sealed box labelled 'Aether gold' with various instruments attached and surrounded by at least half a dozen notes written in a messy shorthand. He found a man dressed in golden and white robes hunched over a magnifying glass which was suspended by a metal aperture over a cluster of crystals which glowed with a golden light.

"Professor?"

The man turned to face him, clearly aged with a pair of goggles secured to his bald head with a thick leather strap. Aventis could see that the fingers of the golden wizard were slightly silver, not uncommon due to their penchant for experimentation and their transmutative arts. Despite being dressed in full sigmarite plate and holding his staff of office, Eisen was not intimidated by the Stormcast, instead he just smiled apologetically.

"Forgive me High-Magister, I got a little distracted observing sun crystals."

"You have no need to apologise professor. Just please be more aware of when someone enters your laboratory, we still haven't caught Loremaster Althorian's killers." Aventis said, his voice carrying through the air with ease.

The golden wizard's expression was somewhat sullied at the mention of Althorian's murder. "So I've heard; I've spoken with the freeguilders about additional security and have come to a agreement, so there's no need to worry about me. Anyway, what brings you here to my humble laboratory this evening?"

"The sample that was recovered by Lord-Aquilor Tempestborn." Aventis stated.

Eisen stood straight. "The throwing blade? I believe I have made some... rather interesting observations. If you would please follow me."

Aventis nodded before the wizard set off through the maze with the Lord-Arcanum in tow. Despite his age, Eisen moved through the lab with confidence, seemingly knowing exactly which way to turn, even though most would feel like they would need a Aetheric compass to navigate the confines of the lab.

Aventis was well aware of the Lord-Aquilor's reputation. The Vanguard-Auxiliary Chambers of the Astral Templars were rightfully well renown, and Lord Tempestborn, whom her chamber named themselves after, was one of the most famous, not least because of number of victories to her name, but the fact that she was reforged as a lord-Aquilor rather than a Lord-Celestant and being promoted to a Lord-Aquilor later. So when she sent a message with a record of an encounter with a mysterious assassin and a throwing blade with a request to take a closer look at it, he immediately handed it to Eisen for study.

Finally they came to a sturdy looking door, covered in iron banding, a keyhole located on its left side. The golden wizard produced a iron key with Duradin runes caved along it. Eisen inserted it into the lock, the runes glowed orange, before turning blue. The wizard turned the key with a heavy clunk before he pulled the door open. The wizard entered first before the Stormcast followed him into the chamber, closing the heavy door behind him.

The room was dimly lit, unlike the rest of the laboratory. A stack of books stood next to a stone table which held a metal plate which had arcane carvings etched onto it. Above the plate, surspeneded by magic like the needle of a compass, was a yellow ribboned throwing knife. Next to it was another magnifying glass mounted on a movable arm, akin to the one that Eisen had been using before when the High Magister found him, and a leather bound journal.

"Right, where to begin..." Eisen sighed, Aventis could hear an edge of frustration to the wizard's voice, which was unusual given that he felt like studying the material of the blade would be something that would in his field of expertise.

"The blade is possibly one of the biggest mysteries I have encountered in my tenure as a scholar." He began before he picked up the journal before offering it to Aventis.

"This journal contains my findings pertaining to the sample, I will summarise them by saying this; the vast majority of the material used in its construction does not match any metals found in the mortal realms."

That caught Aventis off guard, especially since it was coming from one of the foremost experts of the lore of metal. "Are you certain?"

"I do not like to use the word certain when discussing these sorts of matters, but yes. While most of the materials used share basic qualities with those found in the mortal realms, there are too many differences to say that they match anything seen before." Eisen looked at the blade as it hung in the air. "Out of curiosity I looked at the material used in the ribbon, and to my surprise the fibres do not match any silk known I was able to compare it with. Yet that isn't the strangest mystery."

Carefully Eisen removed the blade from the magical field, being mindful of the razor sharp edge age as he held it out to the Stormcast. "Hold this, and tell me what you feel."

Aventis hesitated for a moment before he took the blade. Despite the Golden wizard's eccentricities, he doubted that he would hand him something cursed, at least not without warning him.

The High-Magister held the blade in his gauntleted hands as he closed his eyes. He could feel the energies that coated the blade. The moment he felt it something felt off... not in a way that betrayed a malignant purpose, nor did it signal benign enchantments, it just felt strange.

"I... can't quiet describe it in any way other than odd." Aventis said as handed the blade back to Eisen. "It certainly doesn't feel like the kind of magic which is drawn from the winds, or the Aetheric Void."

"Indeed. I only have a guess... a theory as to what those energise are." Eisen placed the blade back to hover in the magical field before he began. "What do you know of the true void?"

"The true Void lies beyond the Aetheric Void. Unlike the Aetheric Void which can be traveled across and whose power can be channeled to unpick spells, no one has succeeded in drawing power from the true void or traversing it. Even Archon at the height of his power during the age of chaos, with the aid of the gaunt summoners failed." Aventis answered. "Other than that, it is a mystery to all."

"That is correct... though there are certain circles which believe that if a creature was born from the void, it could channel its power, and that spells conjured with the power of the true void could ignore most, of not all wards and countermeasures designed to thwart the use of magic."

Suddenly it Aventis realised the origin of the assassin that Helena had encountered during her mission.

"You mean to say that the assassin who used the blade came from the true void?"

"Yes, the assassin either hails from the void or from a realm beyond the void."

* * *

**AN: whew, done, right.**

**I'm probably not going to right from Ulthan's POV as much as this chapter though he is going to be a recurring character. I've gotten a good deal of world building/connecting done and I have a plan for Arc 1/book 1, this is a major project for me and I'm trying to approach it like one. I was originally going to write the fight between Mara and the disiciples of Tzeentch from Ulthan's POV but decided against it as I really need to also practice writing Tenno fight scenes from the Tenno's POV since they aren't always going to have an audience for their kickarsey.**

**Before I go, shoutout to SpartanCommander and -not Donut- Powerus, both have helped me massively with that aforementioned world building/connecting and just helping me lob ideas around.**

**Update 21/11/2019: Okay, I have a bit of an update for the status of this story, and... well it isn't exactly positive news. Recently I have been struggling with my mental health, and while I have gotten better, my head still isn't in the best place. To make matters worse, uni is now in full swing, so that dosen't exactly help either. I have been trying to write another chapter, but its actually proving to feel like a chore. I have come to the decision to take a break from this story.**

**I apologise for effectively leaving those of you who follow this story hanging. I have recieved overwhelmingly positive feedback from all of you, the amount of favourites and follows I have recieved because of this story is staggering, but I need to take a break from this project, least I burn myself out like I did with soldiers of fate and legacy of iron. I'm considering doing other projects, trying to write something else as to rekindle my enthusiasm in this one, but there almost certainly won't be a new Void Born chapter in 2019.**


	4. Questions

Mara carefully removed the back panel of the repair drone and gazed at the circuitry and wiring inside of the machine as it rested in the red sands, mentally pursing her lips as she tried to trouble shoot the machine. The mid-morning sun hanging over her Zephyr's head as she went about her work, bundles of wiring and a box of tools at her side.

The drone was a Tenno design, similar to the extractor drones used to collect resources. However it did not bare any of the storage tanks used by extractors on its back, instead it carried a single large battery pack to power the Omni's mounted inside of its four fingered claws. Size wise it was slightly smaller than a Corpus Orbital-use Osprey. The Corpus were not the only ones who used drones and robotic proxies for construction and maintenance.

Most Orbiters had two repair drones loaded. While Orbiters were designed to avoid combat, they still had to have a means of repairing themselves on the field, mostly when it was necessary to repair the occasional dent or hole caused by debris which managed to slip through the shields. In addition a Tenno may not be able to repair a ship themselves, so using repair drones controlled by the ship's Cephalon helped ensure that a ship could be fixed without having to return to a Dojo or Relay. When you were tasked with responding to and observing developing situations across an entire system, from conflicts suddenly erupting on mars, to dangerous new strains emerging from Eris, and war-criminals hiding on Venus, you would often not have the luxury to return to friendly space for minor repairs.

Of course Mara didn't just need to repair the ship, she also needed to make some modifications if she wanted this thing to become mobile but she was certain that Logi could handle it. Drone number two had developed a fault, nothing that outright disable it but enough to affect its performance. Mara decided it was best to fix the issues now rather than having to risk dealing with a breakdown later. With some luck it was just something that had come loose during the crash.

Logi's avatar appeared at the side of Mara's HUD.

"Mara?"

"Yes Logi?"

"I was thinking about last night."

Mara looked at the wires and, control units and circuit boards which made up the internals of the drone. She was looking for any loose connections or damaged components which could be disrupting the drone's balance while it was flying using its repulser engines. Meanwhile the Cephalon presented his query to the Tenno.

"As you know you told the humanoid hostaaaa- Aelf, that you were a Tenno."

Mara paused her work as Logi continued.

"You want to remain in the shadows, to remain secret. Yet last night you gave away that you were a Tenno. Granted, the chances that someone in the mortal realms having knowledge of the Tenno comparable to anyone within the origin system is approximately 0.000093% rounded up, but it still doesn't explain your actions."

Mara took about a second before she began to, carefully, look through the nest of wires as she explained her reasoning.

"If you had some unknown actor, whom you know nothing about, suddenly appear and disappear, said actor is seemingly attempting to leave as little evidence as possible, you would assume that this actor is more likely to have hostile intent. But what if that actor openly and deliberately left a piece of information behind?"

"It would appear that the actor does want to be found, suggesting a less hostile intent. So this comes down to seeking help from the Stormcast? I thought you wanted to remain hidden and continue observational work?"

"Yes, and I still intend to observe before stepping into the light fully." Mara looked down and noticed that the gyroscopic stabiliser had come slightly loose from its bearings. "But the situation is beginning to change; judging by how they behaved, we can . Previously the only major threat to us was effectively rendered null after King Marrow was eliminated. Now though that will almost certainly change. As much as I dislike the idea of putting our lives in the hands of the Stormcast while we don't have much reliable intel on them, it might become our only option."

"You do not sound thrilled at the idea."

"I do not like the idea of having to trust an unknown faction." Mara remounted the gyro stabiliser, and secured it properly to its mountings before she began to replace the back cover. "Just as much as they won't like the idea of trusting an unknown mercenary. Knowledge is everything, in war and peace. For now though we continue with the plan and focus on getting the orbiter mobile."

She did not openly say it, but Mara hated unknown factors, she was blind once; not knowing the truth, she languished and suffered from falsehoods and lies until her eyes were opened... at a heavy cost. That was why she wanted to know as much as she could glean about the Stormcast, if she could understand their modus operandi, their objectives and goals, she could offer them a deal, as well as protect herself should they set their sights on her.

"Okay, try it now."

She stood back from the drone as it took to the air, hovering about a meter and a half off the ground.

"Gyro was knocked out of its bearings." She stated as Logi moved the drone from side to side, checking that it realigned itself perfectly.

"Stabilisation errors are within acceptable perimeters." Logi reported as the drone flew off to join the first drone which was carefully dismantling the Linset. "Completion of the refit of the orbiter will be approximately 148 hours."

"Good." Admittedly Mara wanted to have the ability to move the orbiter across the land far sooner than 6 days, a lot can happen in the space of 6 days, and she would spend a large amount of time vulnerable to discovery and attack. However she would just have to deal with it.

"And another thing." Logi continued. "Sakura vitals indicate that she may reawaken in the next 24 hours."

Mara couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief. She knew full well that in the grand scheme of things, Sakura waking up from her coma was a minuscule victory, and that the Tenno would still stuck on a world she barely knew anything about. Despite this it was still a victory; when you routinely had to brace yourself for bad news, you welcomed every shred of good news you found.

Mara felt warm air breeze past her Zephyr's back as she began to turn back to the ship's airlock, tugging the ornaments on the back of the warframe's helmet. She could feel her Zephyr silently beg her to sail upon the winds. The Operator couldn't help but agree with her Warframe's urge.

"I'm going to perform a long range patrol, prep the weapons from the C1 loadout. Oh, and do you know where my sketch book is?"

Come to think of it she had been neglecting to do any drawing lately. Maybe she could get an answer for her intel problem? She moved back towards the grounded orbiter, the airlock door hissing open, welcoming the Tenno back inside her sanctuary.

* * *

Once again Helena found herself walking through Franzburg. As she pasted by the dwellings of the townspeople she could hear the mutterings. News about the attack had spread like wildfire through the town. The presence of the servants of the dark gods was always an ill omen. The presence of those who worshiped Tzeentch was particularly troubling; unlike most of the other dark gods, a hostile action by a Tzeentch cult was rarely just a simple random action of violence or an attempt to gain another territory so that they would have a stepping stone to other targets. Each action was a carefully mediated move in the malicious changer of way's game, any enemies killed or ground gained was a bonus for the god.

At the time Helena thought that the attack was designed to prevent sorely needed supplies from reaching to town. If so then the attack was a poor attempt, they managed to destroy some weapons but they paid a steep price. For a moment it looked like the Astral Templars had thwarted the machinations of Tzeentch, until the mercenaries realised that there was a missing person.

Turns out a Loremaster by the name of Althorian had paid extra to the mercenaries to transport his son, Ulthan, to Franzburg. At that moment Helena suddenly realised that the attack was merely a diversion for another objective; to abduct the Aelf. While the lord-Aquilor could only guess the disciples intentions, she could say with certainty that it would lead to dire consequences.

The Lord-Aquilor immediately began to gather Palladors with the intent of finding the Aelf before the cultists escaped with him when another twist began when 3 beams of light lit up the night sky. At that point Alric lead some Palladors to investigate the source of the light as Helena began to sweep the area for the Aelf and his captors, though it was abundantly clear that the main force had disappeared and had once again escaped into the labyrinth, yet moments later Alric signalled that he had found the Aelf and discovered the fates of his nine captors.

Two human acolytes' heads and two Tzaangors were smashed open like soft fruit, two more humans and another Tzaangor were killed by a blade while the final two acolytes had a hole burned through their skulls. Ulthan was slightly bruised, and certainly looked like he had seen whatever had butchered the disciples, was clearly exhausted both physically and mentally, but was otherwise still alive. Helena decided to allow him to rest, see a healer and leave questioning for the morning. As soon as the convoy reached Franzburg, Dietrich was informed about the attack and Ulthan and requested that he should be assigned guards (she got the feeling that this was to the Aelf's chagrin but it was for his own good).

While she was not a gambling person, in both her previous life and her current one, but if she was she would wager her last piece of Ur-gold on the identity of the Aelf's saviour. However that still left the assassin's motive, as well as just how they did it in the first place.

She walked up towards the two guards who stood at the entry way of the Manor house, both men in their middle age. One had tanned skin and seemed to be Aqshy born and bred, the other seemed to be of mixed Azyrite-Aqshyian descent. From what she could see they were not completely new recruits and looked like they had seen some action, but they did not hold themselves like veteran soldiers.

They stood to attention and told Lord-Helena that the captain was waiting for her in the same room that he had held council in during the previous day. The Lord-Aquilor gave her thanks before she proceeded inside and proceeded up the stairs, her mind still dwelling on the matter.

Helena knew all too well how vast the mortal realms were, with forgotten secrets hidden in every nook and cranny. Some were secreted away so well that even the gods were clueless about their existence, many were best left undiscovered. It was not completely ridiculous to say that their mysterious assassin could have been descended from a tribe forgotten since the age of myth. Yet her gut told her that the assassin was not of any of the realms.

She pushed her theories and thoughts about the assassin to the side for now. Even though it was likely that the assassin was the Aelf's savior, that did not mean it was assured.

The Lord-Aquilor arrived at the floor the room was located at. Once again two long beards were standing at the door, the same ones from yesterday. Surprisingly neither one of them appeared to be grumbling about anything, especially . Aelves and Duradin have had a rather... interesting relationship. It was best summarised that, according to myth, that the Aelve's ancestors had managed to earn a place in the legendary 'book of grudges', a tome which recorded every slight against the Duradin's ancestors, (Helena couldn't help but wonder what they had done to earn a place in the book, since it was not clear what would count as a major offence,) however this grudge was set aside as the world-that-once-was made its final stand against chaos. Nowadays the majority of conflicts between the two races were slightly less-than-good-natured verbal ribbings.

Helena gave them an acknowledging nod, which was returned by the Duradin, before she opened the door to the room that they were guarding. The room remained the same as it was before, with the map table dominating the centre of the room as it did before. Captain Arronson was seated at the west side of the table, a slight look of tiredness in his eyes, the Warden-King waited at the north end, while at the east end the Aelf, Ulthan, was sitting looking slightly nervous. That was somewhat expected; being in the presence of persons of authority, such as a Freeguild captain, a Duradin Warden-King, and a Stormcast Lord, tended to cause people to act like they were convicted of some grievous crime against the gods, even when they were clearly not.

Helena stood at the southern end of the table, trying to appear relaxed and as un intimidating as possible, a challenge when she was a demi-god like being and clad in sigmarite, decorated with furs and a necklace of fangs. Not to mention that she had learnt fairly quickly after being reforged that a Stormcast in full armour was not, by any stretch of the imagination, light weight and that trying to seat herself on a rickety stool was not a good idea.

Dietrich cleared his throat before he addressed Ulthan. "I apologise for questioning you like this, but due to the current situation, we require an account of the events which transpired during the ambush." He said, his voice calm and measured. "We believe that there may be a connection to a previous incident."

Ulthan nodded in response.

Helena knew that the captain was avoiding trying to lead him and get answers they were expecting rather than true answers. It was arguably somewhat unnecessary to not inform him about the assassin which had butchered their way through King Marrow's court, since at this point it was public knowledge in Franzburg, but Helena knew that Dietrich was just trying to be thorough.

"Let's start from the beginning; why did your father put you on the convoy, and send you to Franzburg in the first place?"

Ulthan paused before he gave voice to his answer, his words were hesitant, despite his attempts to keep himself outwardly calm, Helena could still feel that he was still shaken. Judging from his accent, he was probably Hammerhal born, though she could hear a slight hint of what seemed to be a Hyshian accent.

"I... I do not know exactly." Ulthan admitted. "My father just told me that it was dangerous to stay in Hammerhal, to lay low in Franzburg, and that he would inform me once it was safe to return."

"Can you give us your father's name and occupation."

"Althorian, he is a Loremaster serving Magister Aventis."

Helena placed her gauntleted hand on her chin in thought. It was no secret that Hammerhal was a target for the dark gods, being the one of the largest free cities in the mortal realms. The first city was easily one of, if not the greatest outside of Azyr, having one half in Aqshy, and the other in Ghryan, it stood as a bastion of hope, unity and order. Showing that victory against Chaos was more than simply a wistful dream. For the dark gods, it represented everything they detested, and ever since the first brick had been laid, they had made every attempt to raze it to the ground. Of course the city's defenders were more than simply just a band of determined humans, aelves, and duradin, the city's forces were counted among the finest mortal armies to raise their banners for the forces of Order. In addition the Hammers of Sigmar, arguably the most famous Stormhost to have descended from Azyr, stood alongside them. It was not only guarded from attempts to destroy the city from without, but also from within; Lord-Veridents, witch-hunters, and more scoured the city for hidden cults tirelessly, and more than one plot against the god-king was foiled by them. Yet this did not mean that the city was completely safe from these hidden cults.

Perhaps the Loremaster had found something he should not have found, and the disciples of Tzeentch wished him to spill his secrets, one way or another. He must have decided to take precautions and have him outside of the city rather than within it. Of course this plan had almost certainly been discovered by the disciples, through one means or another, leading to the events of last night.

The captain rest his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together, fingers interlocking with each other. He regarded the Aelf with observent eyes, studying his expression before asking his second question. "Did you notice anything unusual before the attack?"

Ulthan shook his head. "No, from what I could see and what I was told by the mercenaries, there was nothing else unusual about the journey except my presence."

From what Helena had gleaned from talking to the surviving mercenaries, Ulthan was right; the disciples had given no visible warning before they attacked. Of course the attack had the most of the hallmarks of a well planned ambush, meaning that they must have known that the convoy did contain their target. The two most likely scenarios were that the disciples had been tipped off by someone inside Hammerhal, or that they had guessed that Ulthan had been smuggled out of the city and had observed the roads. Both were possible, but both presented the same question; why did they stage the ambush close to Franzburg, when more isolated areas were available to them?

Helena mentally marked that question down; she could sort out which enigma she would focus her attention on later.

"Now, can you give me an account of the attack from your perspective?"

The Aelf paused, then began.

* * *

Alric looked at Garik as they circled each other, trying to divine the Hunter-Prime's next move, while his opponent watched the Pallador-prime intently as he attempted to guess his opening attack.

This had not been the first time these two had clashed; the Gladatorium exercises were not just limited to large scale drills, but on occasions duels between Stormcast were held; most of the time these were held for the sake of training, but sometimes it was done to hold certain honours within a chamber or to settle a dispute. Even though neither party pulled their punches during those matches, this was very much a friendly rivalry between the two Stormcast. Here though, they would have to as they didn't have the arena's magical protections which prevented them from being sent back to the forge. That merely meant that they had to be careful with their arms, not go easy on each other.

After what seemed like an eternity of looking for a gap in Garik's defences, Alric perceived something which looked like an opening in his opponent's guard. Seizing the initiative, he dashed forwards and swung his axe to the right. Garik responded by quickly blocking with his saber, the two blades crashed with force as Garik was forced back but maintained his guard.

Alric began to push the advantage, unleashing a flurry of attacks as he forced Garik towards the boundary of the ring which was carved into the dirt, the Hunter parried each attack with trained precision. Even though the Pallador seemingly held the upper hand, he remained on his guard; Garik was no fool and had managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat many times (quiet literally on one occasion).

Soon Garik was a step away from the edge of the arena. Seeing his opportunity, Garik suddenly surged forwards, throwing caution to the wind in an attempt to seize victory against the Stormcast by pushing him out of the ring. Garik swiftly stepped to the side before suddenly striking Alric with the flat of her blade, sending him sprawling to the ground, outside of the ring.

Alric spat out the dirt as he lifted his head from the ground, before he made his opinion known.

"You barstard."

Garik chuckled as he sheathed his blade. "Bastard, or not, you shouldn't have let your guard down." He said as he knelt down, before adopting a more serious tone. "Remember; in a battle to the death, the winner may not always the man who fights bravely or honourably, but it is always the man who survives. To that end you should be mindful or traps and tricks."

Alric slowly sat himself up, he knew that Garik's words were not only a reminder that the enemy certainly wouldn't hold back, but also a reminder to keep his pride in check. Even though he did not admit it openly, he was beginning to see a pattern between his glory hunting, and his near death experiences. That being said he still needed to prove himself; he didn't have the same amount of time serving within the Tempestborn or the Storm Eternal as veterans like Garik.

Garik offered a hand to Alric, who took it and allowed the Hunter prime to help him to his feet. "Other than that, it was a good fight."

"A good fight indeed." Alric agreed. Garik noted that he had improved immensely over a relatively short span of time; if Alric had not fallen for his little trap, Garik doubted that he would have been able to claim victory in this bout. While he could be bull headed and reckless, the Pallador prime was still a fast leaner, and showed signs that he could adapt to a changing situation; an attribute which was invaluable for commanders. He still had a long way to go, but he would be able to close that distance, it was just a matter of time.

Something caught Garik's eye, a distinct flash of colour in the sky above the camp. Looking up, he spotted the iridescent form of an aetherwing. A small patterned ribbon, coloured white and maroon, marked it as out as belonging to the Tempestborn, though the message canister clutched in its talons the bore mark of Hammerhal.

The Azyrite hunting bird circled around the skies of the encampment three times, before it cried out and began to fly towards Franzburg, in a streak of dark blue, leaving the two spectating Stormcast to look on in curiosity.

"Aren't Atherwings carrying messages supposed to return to their handlers if any officers aren't at their camp?" Alric said quizzically, he motioned towards a spire of rock close to the entrance of the camp, on which the Raptors had set up a sentry post with a commanding view of the nearby area which they could use to pick off any unwelcome guests. One of the raptors, a Stormcast known as Adyrn, sat at the top with her Longstrike crossbow resting on her shoulder as she carried out her vigil. She watched the bird fly towards the town even as it became too far for a normal mortal to spot.

"Unless the message is urgent." Garik answered with a frown. "It would be a safe bet to say that Firestrike has made some sort of discovery linked to the throwing knife."

"And therefore has found something relating to the assassin." Alric sighed. "I swear something about this assassin doesn't feel right."

Garik chuckled slightly. "I'm surprised; the daring Alric Swiftstride, is the voice of caution." The Hunter elbowed him in the ribs lightly.

"Be careful, or you might also taste the dirt." Alric replied in a half-joking tone before continuing in a more serious one. It was clear that he was addressing this matter with all due seriousness. "Honestly feel like we've stumbled across some great unknown."

"Is that not our purpose? To face the unknown? To shine a light on the darkest corners of the mortal realms?" Garik questioned, though to be truthful he could not help but share Alric's unease.

"True, but all Helena, and the rest of us for that matter, have are theories." Alric pointed out. "Usually, we would at least have a rough idea of what we are facing, but we don't have even a shred of information that could be used to give even a plausible idea of who or what they could be."

Garik looked towards Franzburg thoughtfully; Alric was right, judging by what he had been told by his brothers in his unit, by Helena and by Alric, the assassin was unlike anything they had encountered before. Reason told him that, so long as they remained on their guard, they could overcome whatever challenges the assassin would present to them, but instinct told him that they had strayed into foreign grounds, a place which not even the gods had a clue existed. Questions were plentiful and answers were in short supply.

"We will face the unknown, as we have always done." The Hunter mused out loud. "Right now, all we can do is remain vigilant."

It was all they could do.

* * *

The Warden-King, guard captain and Lord-Aquilor sat in map room; Ulthan had been excused once he had answered any remaining questions following his account, Dietrich had asked him to remain in his quarters until he had organised some guards to escort, he would need to go outside sooner or later since the Manor wasn't exactly the coolest place in Aqshy so Captain Arronson would organise some guards to go with him.

The three did not speak as they mulled what they had been told silently before captain Arronson broke the silence.

"Thoughts?"

Kurik raised his finger as he leaned forwards on his elbow before he spoke. "Why is it that Aelves always seem to be rescued by damsels?"

Dietrich sighed a little, sounding something between mildly annoyed and disappointed. Helena was just an glad that Ulthan was not in the room to hear that poor jest, she didn't need to break up a argument between Duradin and Aelf; though to be honest Ulthan struck her as mature enough to not take the bait.

"Relevant thoughts."

"Apologies, I had to get that off my chest." Kurik answered somewhat childishly before he took a more serious expression. "But joking aside, this incident only leaves us with more questions than answers, though considering who was involved in the skirmish that isn't exactly unexpected."

The captain leaned forwards as he addressed the Warden-King and the Lord-Aquilor. "Let's start off with the Disciples; it clear that the main objective of the attack was to capture Ulthan, the question is why?"

"Perhaps the beardless cowards intended to use Ulthan to get to Althorian." Kurik offered. "If I was a honourless, yellow bellied, bastard who worshipped the chaos gods, as I am not, that is what I would do."

"A plausible motivation, if they managed to compromise the Loremaster they could gain access to everything ranging from information to arcane artefacts." Helena said as she weighed in on the Duradin's theory. "But I would have little doubt that Althorian would defend his son personally with his life, which would most likely render that tactic useless. He must have believed that they would kill him to get Ulthan."

"You believe that Althorian has been murdered?"

Helena nodded grimly. "And that he saw his own murder coming, yes. Though this would explain why his father went to so much trouble to get far away from Hammerhal unnoticed, it still doesn't explain why he was targeted in the first place."

The room was silent again as each of room's occupants contemplated what the disciples' motivations could have been before each of them theorised. Was he in the possession of some sort of arcane artefact? No, they would have taken it from his corpse rather than kidnap him. Could he know some secret that was critical to the cult's machinations? Helena would have sensed that Ulthan was hiding something, while he was nervous, it wasn't because he felt like he was going to get caught lying. Despite their best guesses, none of them had a concrete answer until Arronson spoke up.

"Do you think they require him for some sort of ritual?"

There was a pause before Helena answered. "It is plausible, though that doesn't narrow down the disciples' goals. Never the less, our strategy remains the same; protect Franzburg, and seek and destroy the Cultist forces before they complete whatever schemes they seek to fulfill."

"I'll see that some Duradin bolster the town's defences." Kurik offered. "That will leave the Stormcast with more soldiers to hunt the beardless cowards down."

The captain nodded appreciatively, all three of the room's occupants knew that Franzburg was in a precarious place, with barely enough men to protect it should it face another assault of similar strength to King Harrow's attack, the reinforcements could decide if the town stood or fell to the insidious cultists. "That would help greatly. Unless anyone has any other suggestions on how to deal with the cultists, I think it's time to move onto our next great mystery."

"The Tenno." Helena said as she leaned forwards. Helena was as well traveled as she was experienced, having fought across the mortal realms in service to the God-King. During her campaigns she had met many different bands of warriors, from the famous like the Phoenix Guard, to the more obscure like the Eviscerark Spears. She had fought alongside infamous corsairs and gallant Gryph-Lancers. Yet none of them, not even the semi-mythical Seraphon, secretive Deepkin or the dread shadowblades, held as much mystery as the Tenno; she and her kind were unknown to Helena, and most likely unknown to everyone else in the mortal realms.

"It seems we are destined to be left with far more questions every time we find even a shred of truth." Lord-Aquilor sighed; right now seeking out and destroying the Disciples of Tzeentch was the simple objective, the dealing with the elusive Tenno presented a much greater challenge.

"We should focus on her potential motivation." Captain Arronson suggested as he unclasped his hands, laying them both flat on the aged map that covered the table. "If we can figure out why she decided to save Ulthan, we come one step closer to divining her intentions."

Helena nodded in agreement, seeing the captain's reasoning. "A good idea. We know that she is cunning, well equipped, and has a set of useful powers; in short she is a force to be reckoned with."

"You sound like you respect her." Kurik rolled his shoulder, the meeting was beginning to drag on, though the Duradin was not complaining vocally.

Helena smiled a little as she leaned forwards. "A little piece of wisdom that I past down during my days as a mortal; respect both prey and predator; you underestimate the speed of a deer it will escape, if you don't recognise that a wolf as strong as you it will tear you apart. I respect the Tenno because I have seen just how capable she is."

The Warden-King nodded his head as if to say fair point before Helena brought the meeting back on course.

"I don't believe that she acted out of impulse. Not when rescuing Ulthan, and not when killing King Marrow. We can say that she has been gathering intelligence for at least a few days before King Marrow's attack." Helena stated before adding, "that being we can say with certainty that she doesn't know everything, as evidenced by our encounter in the keep."

"So chances are that the Tenno might have stumbled on the raid by accident." The captain theorised. "She decided to stay back and observe rather than act immediately and put herself at risk; so she finds herself a vantage point and hides herself there, that way if she needs to intervene, she can just pick the cultists off from far. She spots the cultists attempting to escape unseen, decides to intervene and the rest is history."

Kurik cleared his throat after a slight cough before he spoke. "What I want to know is why did she tell Ulthan what she was? Granted, it doesn't give us any greater idea about what exactly she is and why she is here, but st-"

TAP-TAP-TAP

The room was silent by the sound of something tapping against the barred glass window that let light into the room. Kurik's hand went for a short axe held in his belt while the captain's hand hovered over the flintlock pistol that rested in its Tusker leather holster, however both relaxed when they spotted the radiantly coloured bird sitting patiently on the windowsill. Helena moved from her position and walked towards the window, her heavy footsteps filling the silence. She wasn't expecting a see the bird that she ordered the Ironeyes to send to Hammerhal baring her report and the throwing blade until she returned camp at least. That meant that the message was important, which usually meant that it wasn't good news.

Helena lifted the window upward, brining in a gust of warm air, before she held out her a gauntleted hand. Aetherwing handed the message container to the Lord Aquilor and, with its mission complete it gave a shrill cry and launched itself off the window before it ascended on the thermals. To the few onlookers who were still milling about on the street under the afternoon sun it would become a mere speck of colour in the sky within a few seconds.

Helena watched for a moment before she turned her attention to the messenger canister. Usually these were just made to protect the message from the wether while they were carried by messenger birds or other aerial couriers. Ones these size which belonged to lords of the realms were often decorated with intricate patterns, emblems and were annoyingly fragile (well, fragile for a Stormcast). This one was not, this one was designed to be durable while still being lightweight, a single emblem decorated it; the insignia of Hammerhal.

Helena twisted the canister open. The threaded lid came loose to revealing a scroll of paper with a Azyrite seal keeping it closed, preventing any unwanted persons from opening it without incinerating the message, and giving themselves a nasty shock in the process. For a moment she reminded herself that Hamilcar, Lord-Castellant of the famed Bear-Eaters, was unnerved by the concept of letters. She was dreading to open this one. Still she broke the seal with a quiet snap, a spark flickered across her fingers and she unfurled the scroll with a dry rustle before she read it to herself silently.

To Lord-Aquilor Helena Tempestborn

I am writing to you to inform you of what has been discovered through the efforts of Professor Eisen Oswal.

To summarise, I have reason to believe that the Assassin is not native to any of the mortal realms.

Helena felt her stomach sink when she read that line. This mission had just gotten a lot more complicated. She continued to read the rest of the letter.

The materials used in the blade do not match with those found within the Mortal Realms. This alone would not be enough to confirm that the Assassin did not originate from the Mortal Realms, we are both aware that there are hidden tribes and peoples that have remained secret from even the gods. However we discovered residue of the energies of the true void on the blade. To give a brief explanation as to why this is significant, only a being born of the true Void can harness its energies which allowed it to ignore magical countermeasures during its assassination of King Marrow.

This is undoubtedly a major discovery, but unfortunately I cannot help you directly, Loremaster Althorian, a close ally, was murdered in his own home and his son is missing so my hands are tied until this matter is resolved and his killers are brought to justice. While I would advise that you do not allow it to run free unmonitored, whether you choose to attempt to detain the assassin, or use diplomatic means, it is up to you.

May Sigmar watch over you.

Aventis Firstrike, High-Magister of Hammerhal.

Helena felt a weight settle on her shoulders; she couldn't claim that she was close friends with the High-Magister, but she knew him well enough that he would not claim something like this unless he was confident in the evidence that was in front of him, and the people who gave and analysed that evidence. If he had reason to believe that the Tenno belonged to a realm beyond the mortal realms, then chances are he was right.

"Well? What seems to trouble you?" Kurik asked, concerned at the Lord-Aquilor's furrowed brow as she re-read the message to check that it was indeed correct.

"Loremaster Althorian is dead, as I feared." Helena said as she walked back to the table. "I would suggest that we break the news to Ulthan sometime; preferably sooner rather than later."

"I will inform him of his father's death." The captain offered solemnly. "While I can say that I do not enjoy the task of bringing someone's next-of-kin news of death, it is necessary. Is that why this message concerns you? You worry that the Aelf will not take the news well?" He looked towards the Stormcast.

Helena paused for a moment as she thought about whether she should reveal the Magister's revelation; there would be consequences if this knowledge become widespread, but she could not leave her allies in the dark when it came to the Tenno, who could very well shape the mission intentionally or not. They needed to know just what they were facing, and what complications they would have to face.

"It would best if you read the rest of the news yourself." She said as she passed the letter to Captain Arronson.

The mortal's eyes scanned the neatly written letter a few times, a look of bewilderment on his face as he finished the letter the first time which then transformed into worry after he read it the second time. "Sigmar guide us." He muttered as he then handed the letter to Kurik. "Are you certain that he is correct?"

"I should bloody well hope so." Kurik said with a furrowed brow after he quickly glanced through the letter before he proceeded to read through it again. "If he is getting us worried about nothing, I swear I will march myself to Hammerhal to let him know my disapproval."

"He might be a warrior first and a Scholar second, but Firestrike knows what he is talking about, and what his subordinates and allies are talking about as well." Helena assured with a grim tone as she leaned on the table slightly, eliciting a soft groan from the furniture piece. "Despite this revelation, my previous recommendation still stands; we do not engage her unless out of self defence."

Kurik nodded. "Agreed, this has the potential for an absolute disaster if we make a misstep. Still though, one question remains; why is she here?"

Helena paused as she looked out of the window. Why was the Tenno here indeed? That was the question everyone in the room needed to know the to answer; they could worry about how she arrived later, it was her purpose that was everyone's concern. Yet that was not the only question on Helena's mind; even she could see that the presence of entity, that existed outside of the mortal realms, changed the game drastically.

So what sort of consequences would the Tenno's presence bring?

* * *

The Zephyr was still as Mara stood at the edge of a sparse gathering of petrified trees; their grey branches grasping skywards in many different directions. In the distance she could see a towering stone, similar to the one she had used as a sniper perch during the raid last night. From what she had gathered, the rock was known as the Matyr's Cornerstone, named so because a force of soldiers perished during the war against chaos. She had on occasions stumbled across ghouls here, seemingly scavenging the bones of long dead soldiers. Since they were gone she didn't have to worry about encountering them as much.

She couldn't but feel that the area surrounding the Matyr's Cornerstone reminded her of some place she had visited in the past, long the Zariman Ten-Zero's ill-fated voyage. Could it had been Earth? While the forests of Earth were dead for most of the Orokin empire's reign, there probably were some before the Zariman left the origin System. Maybe it was Lua? The Orokin were not the first inhabitants of the moon, though she couldn't remember if her teacher mentioned anything about Arboriforms during her lessons, nor her...

She could feel the pain that came with loss flare up inside her, threatening to consume her. Even though it had been countless years since that day, the scars that she bore still felt raw even after all that time; time could heal the wounds of body, but the wounds of sorrow and anger could not fade, perhaps they never would.

She pushed the memories aside as she studied the pillar of rock, there was no point on dwelling on the past. She could see an outcropping which held a decent amount of shade, while still maintaining a decent view over the surrounding area. In short it was a good spot for Mara to perch for a while, now only the question of how she could get up there remained.

She looked to her warframe's right to see a stone tree. After making a few rough calculations in her head she decided on her method.

She ran as fast as she could towards the tree. About five meters away from the tree the Zephyr leapt into the air. Despite carrying her Veldt rifle, two pouches of Spira throwing blades, a Kestral boomerang and a cloth satchel with her drawing supplies, the Warframe's Oxium laced Chassis to achieve a gravity defying leap towards the tree. She planeted her feet on the petrified trunk and sprung off it. As she did so, a burst of air launched the Warframe through the air like a rocket, her shields adapting further to streamline the Warframe's already sleek profile. After that brief burst of speed upwards she began gliding through the air like some sort of mythical avian as she felt her Zephyr rejoice at the rush.

Mara landed on the outcropping with grace and without smacking into the pillar of rock face first, despite the speed she was going at and the width of the outcropping, bending her legs on impact and moving to a crouching position. She slowly turned and seated herself on the rock.

Reaching into the cloth satchel bag, she carefully unbutton the clasp, which was designed to resemble the counterweights of a Zaw, and reached inside. Her warframe's armoured hands felt the vanished wood cover of her sketchbook as she pulled it out.

She had gotten it some time ago from the markets of Cetus. The merchant who had given it too her was a good man, though he was quiet and timid and to some people he was more than just the 'simple merchant' he claimed to be. It was gifted to her after as a bonus for completing a errand in a timely but thorough fashion. The pale wood cover and back, along with a set of metal rings bound the drawing paper together, creating a bulky tome. Despite the length of time she had owned the book, she had yet to fill its pages, despite the fact she had stuck in a few of her previous works from before she had the book.

Mara traced her Warframe's fingers across the Ostron characters that were engraved into the cover and painted red. Starting from the top and ending at the bottom; she spelt out the quote of a famous prospector who once lived in Cetus.

'Remember the past, plan for the future, but live in the present.'

In the bottom left hand corner, Mara had carefully carved her name in curving Tenno script, for the sake of marking her ownership of it; though she was never negligent enough to lose it.

It was not uncommon for a Tenno to take up an art in what little spare time they possessed. It was not difficult to find a Tenno who played an instrument, danced, drew or painted, though many would never see their work personally. On a practical level, it helped Tenno develop greater synchronisation with their Warframe, allowing for them to be more dexterous while operating them. However these habits dated long before their discovery by the Orokin; when the Zariman was lost to the Void, many of the children used the arts as a coping mechanism as their world was flipped upside down. Many would continue with these practices during the old war as a means of helping them cope with the pains and stresses that came with a life of battle.

She reached inside her bag and was about to grasp onto her case of pencils when she heard the sound of heavy footsteps and the clattering of metal along with what was most likely a huffing of a person who was probably not used to excercise.

Mara slipped her drawing book back in her satchel and unholster the Veldt from the Warframe's back before she laid flat on her belly; she could hear the footsteps coming closer to the pillar. That wasn't good; was she spotted? Mara doubted it; she was paying attention to her surroundings when she was making her 'flight' to the outcropping. She did not have Ivara's cloak to hide her in view, but she did have Zephyr's speed if the situation began to deteriorate.

It took what seemed like an eternity before the runner staggered into Mara's field of vision, doubled over from exhaustion.

Mara immediately identified the runner as a non-human; he was a hulking mass of a mix of muscle and fat, and would most likely tower anyone that wasn't the height of a heavily augmented Grineer. His clothing was simple, a single round brass plate protected his belly and had the jaws of some sort of predator mounted to its front, maybe Aquatic since it looked like a Lanx. A belt of flint lock pistols, seemingly made for a human to use, was wrapped around simple brown pants and his feet were covered by steel toecap boots.

However he was not alone, he was carrying a woman, bound, gagged and dressed in rags with a pale complexion and ragged dark hair. Judging by her condition she was not here willingly; Mara could see that she was emaciated, likely from starvation or malnutrition, despite this the woman's eyes darted around like a frightened animal, desperate to find an escape from her situation.

In the space of twelve hours, Mara had found herself in another hostage situation.

The Tenno rose her rifle to her warframe's optics and slowly began to train her crosshairs on the kidnapper's head; while the situation was similar to last night, she did not have a suppressed rifle and she did not have a stealth based Warframe; that meant that if his pursuers were close they would almost certainly detect her.

She pulled the rifle's trigger, only to hear the sound of hooves, the crackling electricity, the rushing of air and the clattering of armour.

The oversized humanoid looked up at the newcomers with a looking of anger with a hint of fear in his eyes. They were hidden from Mara's view since she the pillar blocked the other one-eighty degrees of her view, but judging from what she could hear, she could make an educated guess on who they were.

"Stormflesh." The kidnapper growled in a guttural voice as he hefted the terrified and wriggling woman up by her neck, clearly intending to use her as a human shield from what Mara assumed was multiple Stormcast. "Can't you tinned runts leave a honest Ogor in peace?"

A second voice, female, spoke; she sounded softly spoken, not a tone would expect of a fearsome warrior, yet her voice carried well and there was a underlying coldness, suggesting that she was not the delicate flower she sounded like to the casual observer.

"Goreguts, exile of the Stonegut tribe."

Her voice... it sounded familiar to Mara.

"You are charged with the crimes of slavery, robbery and murder, surrender for you have no place left to run."

Mara was so caught up in trying to figure out who the female Stormcast's voice resembled that she nearly missed Goreguts fish out one of the flintlock pistols with his chubby fingers. The Tenno mentally scolded herself for loosing focus.

"Ya think I'm dumb and that I just brought her as a snack? I would be insulted if it came from anyone else's mouth." He said with a sneer as he placed the pistol against the woman's head, causing her to cease her squirming. "I say ya let me go my own merry way... or this pretty little thing's head will be reduced to mince meat."

Mara kept her sight on the Ogor's head as silence reigned. This was not good; she could take the shot and run. Her odds of outrunning the Stormcast were decent, but low enough that in most other scenarios it would discourage her from taking the shot. However the fact that the Ogor was not concerned if the hostage lived or died and had a gun to her head increased the odds. Mara could see that he was at his wits end as well, with sweat falling past his beady eyes being the most obvious indicator; that certainly complicated things.

The female Stormcast spoke again in a calming tone, addressing the hostage. "Please, stay calm, I promise that we will get you out of here safely."

For one reason or another, Goreguts decided that this was reason enough to snap and do something monumentally stupid. He pointed the flintlock pistol, the thing which he was using to threaten the hostage, at the Stormcast. Mara realised that he had just cost himself his life in a truly avoidable fashion before he even opened his mouth.

"Hey! Listen to me ya St-"

A bolt, most likely from the crossbows used by the Stormcast, shot through the air and struck the Ogor in the head. The combination of the projectile's high velocity and the energies that charged it was lethal, as testified by the fact that Goreguts' head detonated in a gory fashion. The Hostage began to try and pull herself free before the lumpen slaver fell but his arm, now in rigor mortis, refused to relinquish her.

A Stormcast dashed forwards in a blur of purple. Surprisingly, they bore a pair of crystalline wings on their back; then again, considering that they were demigod like beings, it made sense. Judging by the ornamentation on their armour, they were an officer of some description, maybe a 'prime' of some sort of formation Mara had yet to discover. As for their equipment they bore a sword and a lantern like apparatus, both currently strapped to their belt.

Said winged Stormcast pulled the Ogor's meaty arm away, freeing the hostage who promptly stumbled into the armoured warrior, breathing heavily as the adrenaline from her harrowing experience began to fade. The Stormcast held her steady as they removed their (or her, judging by her appearance) helmet. The Stormcast had tanned skin, perhaps having originated from this realm, and sea green eyes and pity cut dark hair.

Mara couldn't help but shake that something about the Stormcast was familiar to her.

The Stormcast looked over the now freed slave with concern in her eyes, searching for serious wounds but despairing at the amount of bruises and scrapes that covered the woman's limbs. From what Mara had heard, the Astral Templar's were drawn from the ranks of war-like tribes, so this Stormcast's behaviour was unusual, though it could be explained that she had a negative experience with slavers in her past, giving her some empathy towards the woman's plight.

"Are you alright?" The winged Stormcast asked (confirming that she was the Stormcast that was calming the hostage before) before receiving a barely convincing nod from the woman.

"Where are the others?" The woman then asked, her voice barely audible to any of the listeners. Mara could hear the strain brought on by thirst and hunger in each of those four words.

"They are well." The Stormcast answered with a reassuring smile before she began to lead the woman carefully away, out of Mara's sight once again. A second Stormcast spoke up, male, probably middle-aged.

"Both my brothers should have reached the base camp by now with the other liberated prisoners, Knight-Azyros." He said. "We won't be able to reach Franzburg under the midday sun without risking her falling to exhaustion, so we'll report to the Lord-Aquilor, at camp until then."

"Is that okay with you?" The female Stormcast asked in a soft voice, presumably to the woman. Her response was none verbal but after a moment Mara heard the sounds of hooves and claws against dirt followed by the rushing for air as the Stormcast left.

Mara remained still for a moment before she stood up and placed her rifle back on her Warframe's back hardpoint; she honestly felt like she was being purposely denied any peace for mediation.

Still, the Knight-Azyros' apperence bothered Mara; in the back of the Tenno's head she felt like she resembled someone she knew. When she thought about it though, a theory began to creep into her head on who it could be, and it brought memories that she had wanted to leave behind to the forefront of her mind. Mara pushed them to the side swiftly; it couldn't be her anyway, she was dead; Mara had watched her die on the Zariman.

But the Stormcast were forged from the souls of the dead according to the locals.

Mara felt her frustration began to rise; she had too many questions and not enough answers. She was stuck up a creek without a paddle while also being almost blind.

She sighed before she dropped off her vantage point and began to walk towards the deceased Ogor. Most Tenno had learnt to acquire materials whenever and wherever they could to keep themselves supplied. Grineer propaganda and Corpus PMC recruitment ads liked to jump all over this practice, and conveniently forget that they were just as guilty of grave robbery as the Tenno.

The pistols were more or less useless to Mara. She wasn't even sure if they could be broken down for raw material, some went for the 'belly plate' (that and Mara had some scruples when it came to acquiring material). However she spotted a red velvet pouch, closed with a piece of string, which was probably attached to his belt which had somehow came loose sometime between him lurching here and having his head blown off.

She crouched down and picked up the bag in her hand, it was heavier than she first thought. She could hear the sound of metal on metal as she lifted it from the dust. Mara swiftly realised she had probably found some of the dead slaver's savings.

She pulled the bag open to find that it was filled to the brim with gold coins. Mara plucked a coin out and inspected it curiously. Unlike Ducats; these had two different insignia's on each side; one was a helmeted, bearded, visage while another was a twin-tailed comet; the latter would seem to suggest that it was the official currency used by people who were under Sigmar's rule, since she had seen a similar logo on a temple dedicated to the god in Franzburg and similar iconography was used by some of the Stormcast.

An idea formed in Mara's head; if her observations were correct, then the town's markets should be open for the duration of the afternoon.

Logi certainly wouldn't approve of her plan, but she didn't have a better idea.

* * *

**Kept you waiting, huh?**

**Sorry about the delay, as many of you would have seen from my update, life has been somewhat... too interesting for my mental health as of late.**

**This chapter is a bit of a filler, 'not much happens', chapter. It was always going to be one of those chapter though so... yeah. That being said, this chapter does have some significance, but I'm not completely happy with it since I was in the 'getting back into the swing of things', stage after my hiatus.**

**Next chapter will be ALOT more eventful, that I can promise you. Until then, I'll see ya next time.**


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